Damages
by TheFictionalMe
Summary: A collection of lengthy and (mostly) unrelated one-shots featuring lots of Nick whump, angst, h/c, with a little humor and fluff thrown in and lots of friendship feels from the whole Gang. Chapter 3: The one where Nick's post-zombie effects are more serious than any of them thought-Part 2.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**Hey friends, I'm back! As promised, here is the start of the one-shot series featuring a whole lot of Grimm whumpage and lots of friendship, angst, and humor with our favorite fictional peeps. **

**This first one is looong, so I apologize for that. I really don't know how to make my stories any less detailed, and this probably should have been a two-or-three shot, but oh well *shrugs shoulders*.**

**This first prompt I actually came up with on my own, although someone informed me there was a **_**very**_** similar prompt on the Grimm Meme thing? Good thing I don't know what that is or else I'd probably be writing a whole bunch of crazy stories. This one takes place sometime in early Season 3, and there will be some vague references to Last Grimm Standing, so spoilers? I guess. **

**Warnings: some blood, violence, swearing, and as always, angsty feels!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grimm or the characters, NBC does. That's probably a good thing too, or Nick would get beat up waaay too often…**

**Enjoy!**

**TheFictionalMe**

* * *

_The one where Monroe is drugged and tries to kill Nick._

* * *

"Hey man, don't stay too late," Hank stood up from his desk, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.

Nick sighed, looking up from the report he was typing to look at his partner. It always took a little longer to write up reports involving Wesen, since it took some creative wording to fill in what really happened.

"Thanks, I won't," Nick replied, leaning back in his chair. "Where are you off to? Hot date?"

An infectious smile broke out across Hank's face. "As a matter of fact, yea."

Nick raised his eyebrows at this. "Who? The physical therapist again?"

Hank nodded in response. "That'd be the lucky girl."

Nick chuckled at that, shaking his head. "You finally got her to say yes, huh?"

"Took long enough, but I think she realized the error of her ways," Hank started walking away, patting Nick on the shoulder as he passed by.

"Sure she did. Hey, have fun man," Nick turned to look at Hank's retreating form.

"Oh you know it," Hank called over her shoulder as he headed for the precinct door, before adding as an afterthought, "and YOU stay out of trouble, please. I don't want any interruptions tonight."

Nick laughed, waving him off. It was wishful thinking that he wouldn't have an eventful night for once, but that was the life of a Grimm.

He glanced at his watch and sighed, before shooting Juliette a quick text to let her know he'd be home late. He turned back to his computer, determined to finish the last report before he ended up sleeping at his desk. Again.

"Sorry Burkhardt, but I've got one more for ya," Sergeant Wu's voice pulled him from his train of thought what felt like only moments later. Nick hadn't even heard Wu approach, or known he was still at the station for that matter. He turned to see a young man, no more than eighteen or nineteen, standing to Wu's left. He was tall and awkwardly gangly, with a mop of blond curls, and he was looking rather nervous as he looked between him and Wu.

"Mike, this is Detective Burkhardt," Wu introduced, as Nick stood up to shake the kid's hand. "And this is Mike Palmer."

"Hi Mike, what can I do for you?" Nick asked, nodding as Wu saluted him before walking away in the direction of the coffee station.

"Well, uh," Mike continued to look around, shoving his hands in his pockets before leaning in closer to him, "I was hoping we could talk somewhere a little more private. I'm told you're the best cop for these types of…situations."

Nick raised his eyebrows, studying Mike more carefully. He waited as Mike slowly shifted, and it suddenly all made sense.

"Lowen," Nick whispered quietly, more out of surprise than anything. He would have taken the kid for an Eisbiber or Mauzhertz or something less intimidating with the way he presented himself. Nick looked around as Mike shifted back to human form, and realized they did need to talk somewhere out of earshot of the remaining few officers stuck on the late shift.

"Come with me," Nick motioned, and Mike nodded, following wordlessly as he led them into one of the empty interrogation rooms. Once the door was securely closed and Nick was sure that no one was behind the two-way mirror, he turned to face the nervous young man.

"I know you don't have a good history with my kind," Mike put up his hands in a placating gesture, "but you have to believe me when I say that I'm not like the others and I wanted NO part in the Lowen Games."

Memories of fighting in the ring next to Monroe flashed across Nick's mind. Leo Taymor had disappeared, and the games put to an end. Nick shook his head, focusing back on the present. "You know about that?"

Mike shrugged. "Well, yea. I went to a few. I mean, you get looked down upon by the others if you don't act like you're one of them. But I never liked it, I swear!"

Nick nodded slowly, trying to get a read on the kid. He seemed genuinely concerned about something, but he still didn't know what he wanted from him. "Ok. Why are you here, Mike? Why do you need my help?"

"Well, my friend Luke," Mike began, then hesitated, shoving his hands deep in his pockets again, "well, he's not really my friend. But he's the older brother of the girl I like, Jenny, so I'm trying to be his friend…"

"Mike," Nick held up a hand, trying to stop the rambling teenager. "What's going on?"

Mike sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "They've started the games again," he replied quietly, before looking back up at Nick.

Nick's heart sped up and he unconsciously clenched his fists in anger at his side. So he would have to put those sadistic games to an end once again. "Are you sure?" he asked Mike, being sure to keep his voice steady.

"Yea," Mike nodded, looking at Nick earnestly. "Luke and his buddies did. That's why I need your help. To stop it."

Nick nodded, putting a hand to his chin, regarding Mike with a serious look. "Where are they being held?"

"About an hour outside Portland, at an abandoned sawmill," Mike answered quickly, his voice rising with panic. "And they're holding another one, tonight. We've got to go now!"

"Ok, ok," Nick stepped forwards and put a hand on the teen's shoulder to calm him, "I'll take care of it, don't worry. I just need to get a unit together…"

"No!" Mike shouted, his eyes wide. He looked around, waiting for someone to come bursting into the interrogation room at his outburst. At Nick's raised eyebrows, he continued more quietly. "I mean, if the cops show up, they'll just kill all the prisoners and then leave. They have look-outs around the warehouse, and they'll know you guys are coming a mile away."

"So how do you propose that we help then?" Nick asked, wondering where the kid could be going with this.

"I can get us in," Mike answered, a look of determination replacing the meekness in his eyes.

"I can't let you go," Nick shook his head. "It's too dangerous."

"You won't get anywhere near this place without me," Mike countered. "Please, you have to let me go. They won't hurt me, I'm one of them."

"Even if you bring a Grimm to a Lowen party? I doubt they'll just overlook that," Nick scoffed. "I'm sorry kid, but you can't. I can't have innocent parties getting in the way."

"Fine, fine, I get it," Mike sighed, turning away. "I don't suppose you have a Blutbad friend lying around somewhere."

Nick paused, caught off guard by this. That was just a little _too_ convenient that he did indeed have a Blutbad friend lying around, and alarm bells started going off in his head. The kid couldn't know about his friendship with Monroe, could he?

"Wait," Nick said, and Mike turned back around to face him. "A Blutbad? Why does that matter?"

"Well, I kind of told Luke that I had a Blutbad buddy that wanted to buy in on some of the matches tonight, and I think Luke is hoping he can make him fight instead," Mike answered, shaking his head. "He told me not to show my face unless the Blutbad comes with me. Blutbads are a hot ticket item in the ring, for some reason."

_Yea they are_, Nick thought to himself, remembering his and Monroe's turn in the ring. "Do you even have a friend who's a Blutbad?" Nick asked, looking skeptically at the kid.

Mike nodded his head slowly. "Yea, I do actually. But he wouldn't come even if I paid him to."

"So you told Luke that in hopes of what? Coming to Portland and finding one willing to go with you?"

Mike shrugged. "I don't know. I was out of options, and if I don't impress Luke…then I have NO chance with Jenny. Like ever."

Nick sighed, having heard enough of the teen angst. Something about this story still wasn't adding up, but Nick couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong. But, if the Lowen Games were in fact running again, he couldn't just sit by and let it happen.

"Listen, give me the location of the mill," Nick grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and the teen hastily scribbled the directions on it. "I'll check it out. But you're still not coming, got it?"

"Fine," Mike grumbled, shoving the paper back at Nick. "But be careful. It's only a small group tonight, just one scheduled match, but they're dangerous. I mean, for a Grimm."

Nick smirked at this. "I can handle myself. But thanks for the info. Now go home and stay away from these losers, ok?"

Mike nodded slowly, but Nick saw the look in his eyes. The kid was heartsick for this Jenny and he wasn't likely to stop trying to do whatever it took to get her attention, even if it meant making more bad decisions and hanging out with the wrong crowd.

"Thanks," Mike shook Nick's hand again, "you're pretty cool…for a Grimm." Nick tipped his head in acknowledgement. With that, he led him from the interrogation room, waving farewell as the kid left the precinct.

As soon as he was gone, Nick dug in his pocket and started to dial Hank, before hesitating. Hank was on a date tonight, and it might not be worth interrupting him for. For all he knew, this kid could be exaggerating and it could just be a bunch of teens trying to start up their own Fight Club. Nick quickly scrolled through his contacts for the next number, waiting for the person to pick up. It only took two rings.

"Hey, Monroe," Nick greeted once he heard his friend's voice. "What are you up to tonight?"

* * *

"I can't believe they started up these sick games again," Monroe shook his head in disgust from his position in Nick's passenger seat as they headed out towards the sawmill, per Mike's directions. "And I thought this ring was shut down after what happened before, anyways."

"It was," Nick replied wearily, "but apparently some Lowen teenagers thought it would be a great idea to start up their own version of fight night."

Monroe snorted at that. "Great. If the Lowen Games weren't bad enough, then the Lowen Games run by a bunch of idiot kids will be even worse."

Nick gave him a knowing look before turning back to the road. "I think we're almost there."

Monroe cracked open the window, sniffing slightly in the cool night air. "Weird. I don't smell anything. I mean, Lowen have a pretty distinct smell, I should be able to catch their scent a mile away. Especially if there's a whole group of them."

Nick furrowed his brows at this. Something about this whole situation still wasn't sitting quite right with him, but he couldn't just ignore what Mike had told him. _Someone_ had to stop the Lowen Games from happening again…and that someone was him.

Besides, how much trouble could a group of teenagers be?

"Well, I'm just going to pull off here," Nick replied as he carefully parked on the side of the road and turned off the engine. "This Mike kid had said they had look-outs posted for anyone coming, so we better check things out by foot first."

"Great," Monroe grumbled, sliding out of the passenger seat and quietly closing the door as Nick walked around the other side of the car to join him. "Why do I feel like we're walking right into a trap?"

Nick shot a sideways glance at him, unable to deny that he had the same gnawing gut feeling about this whole situation, but he had to at least find out if the games were actually starting up again. "Well, it could be, but it's only supposed to be a small group tonight, just one match. But if a couple of Lowen teens are too much for you, you can just wait at the car."

He didn't miss the narrowed gaze Monroe threw his way, and he was barely able to contain a smirk.

"Fine. Let's get this over with."

Nick nodded in amusement at him, before carefully holstering his gun and following Monroe as he trudged into the darkness of the woods along the side of the old service road.

After about ten minutes, Monroe paused suddenly, raising his hand up for Nick to stop behind him.

"What is it?" Nick whispered as he came to stand at his shoulder, peering into the darkness and trying to make out what he had spotted.

"I think that's it," Monroe whispered back, nodding at a clearing between the trees. Nick looked through to see an abandoned structure, of what used to be part of an old logging operation, nestled up on the top of the next hill. It looked eerily quiet and abandoned from the outside, as if no one had been here for years, let alone tonight.

"Are any of them outside?" Nick asked quietly, looking around and wondering why there weren't any Lowen kids guarding the sawmill as Mike had described. If there were, he was sure Monroe would have sensed them by now.

Monroe paused, sniffing the air carefully before turning back to him with a dumbfounded look. "No. I can't smell anything. I don't even smell anything coming from inside. It's like no one is here." He looked around again, testing the air one more time before turning back to Nick with a questioning look. "Dude, as you sure this is the right place?"

Nick nodded slowly, furrowing his brow as he looked around, wondering what the hell was going on here. "Yea, I'm sure. This is the place the Lowen kid told me about."

Monroe scoffed quietly at that. "Well maybe that kid was just messing with you, because I don't smell any Lowen around here."

"Maybe," Nick sighed, looking around the darkened woods once again, "but he seemed pretty genuinely concerned about what was going on here." He paused, hoping that he wasn't losing his touch in being able to read people (or Wesen for that matter), and he vaguely wondered if his natural Grimm instincts hadn't profiled the kid correctly. "I don't know. At least let me check out the mill, just to make sure, and then we can get out of here."

"Fine with me," Monroe nodded in agreement. "Although, if I came out here tonight for nothing, I'll need a better excuse for Rosalee about why I missed date night again."

Nick chuckled at that, looking back at Monroe over his shoulder as he stepped out of the clearing. "Aren't you going to blame it on me, like usual?"

Monroe snorted, shaking his head. "That excuse doesn't work anymore. It's been overused."

Nick just smirked at him again, before slowly making his way towards the saw mill, unholstering his gun and aiming it out ahead of him. "Well, I'll be right back. You just stay here and think about a better excuse."

"Yea, thanks," he heard Monroe mutter sarcastically as he moved up the hill towards the abandoned structure.

Nick carefully cracked open the rusted metal door on the side of the crumbling building, that was still barely hanging on by its hinges, and stepped inside with his flashlight in one hand and gun in the other. He quickly scanned the darkened room, looking for any signs of Lowen activity, but the place was eerily quiet. No one was here.

He moved further into the room, listening intently for any noise in the darkness, stopping suddenly in the middle when the beams of his flashlight landed on a familiar looking structure.

A large cage, similar to the one from the last Lowen Games, was erected directly in the middle of the large open room. As he cautiously came closer, quickly scanning the inside of the cage with his flashlight, he saw the large amount of blood spatters decorating the floor, some of it looking recent and still slightly wet.

So the Lowen Games _were_ up and running again.

Nick felt the anger and disgust rise up inside him at this notion, and teens or not, these Lowen wouldn't get away with what they had done here. Unfortunately, it looked like they had already ditched this location. Maybe someone had tipped them off that he was coming…

Maybe Mike had tipped them off that he was coming.

Nick's heartbeat picked up as he realized that this _could_ really be a trap. He had had a feeling all night that something was off here, but he had let his pride and sense of duty get in the way, with his determination to shut down the Lowen Games once and for all.

But Monroe hadn't been able to sense any Lowen in the area…

_Monroe._

If this was some sort of a set-up, they needed to get out of here, and now. He wheeled around in the darkness, an increasing feeling of dread washing over him, and at that moment all his Grimm senses went off simultaneously, telling him that in fact imminent danger was present nearby.

Without any hesitation, he crashed back through the metal door, taking it completely off of its hinges this time, and scrambled to make his way back to the clearing where he had left Monroe.

"Looking for him?"

Nick spun around, gun still outstretched, and peered into the darkness to see five Lowen teenagers, white teeth snarling at him in the moonlight, with a now unconscious Monroe slumped at their feet.

Nick's heart froze in fear to see Monroe surrounded by the Lowen kids, but he refused to let it show, squaring his shoulders and facing down the closest young Lowen who had spoken to him, a massive young man in either his late teens or early twenties, with broad shoulders and dark blonde hair.

"Actually, I'm looking for you," Nick replied coolly, taking a deep breath as he leveled his gun at him. "You must be Luke."

Luke scoffed, crossing his arms over his thick chest and looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Great work, detective. You found us."

"I have to say, I'm a little disappointed I didn't get an invite to your party," Nick motioned with his head at the sawmill, struggling to keep the contempt out of his voice. "Looks like you guys have been having a little fun out here."

Luke shifted back to human, the rest of the young Lowen doing the same. Nick paused when he saw Mike Palmer standing in the back of the group. He didn't miss the way the teen studiously avoided his gaze, looking at the ground and not at him, shoulders hunched forward in defeat.

So Mike _had_ set him up. He should have known…

"We've been having a _great_ time out here," Luke grinned lecherously at him, slowly pacing around Monroe's still form on the ground like a lion would its prey. "But we've been getting a little bored with the same old fights. It gets so predictable. So then, I thought, why not get a Blutbad to fight instead? They're almost as strong and violent as us," he gestured as his friends, "although not nearly as smart. Who knew a little bit of wolfsbane would make it so easy to catch one?"

Nick gritted his teeth at that. Wolfsbane. So that's how they had gotten the jump on them. These kids were more cunning and ruthless then Nick would have given them credit for.

"Of course, Mike here was actually useful for once," Luke continued on, and Nick met Mike's ashamed gaze as the teen finally looked up at him. "Thanks to Mike, he led you guys here, and now we have both a Grimm _and_ a Blutbad for our fight tonight. This is going to be epic." He turned to look back at Mike. "You might be one of us yet, Mike. Good job not screwing up, for once."

Mike just hung his head in shame, looking down at the ground once again and shoving his hands in his pockets. Nick frowned at this. Even though Mike was the reason that he and Monroe were currently in this predicament, he certainly didn't look pleased about it like the rest of his friends.

Nick turned back to Luke, narrowing his eyes. "You do realize that you are essentially killing innocent people here. You are all murderers, and what's worse you are _enjoying_ it. This ends now." He paused, clicking the safety off his gun and aiming it Luke again. "And if you think there's any way that I'll fight him, then you're delusional."

Luke's eyes flashed murderously as he looked back at Nick. "Let's get something straight here, Grimm. You will get in that ring and you will fight him," he stepped over Monroe's motionless form and jerked up his head by the back of his curly brown locks, "or I'll kill him right now." With that, he ran his now elongated claws dangerously across Monroe's neck, drawing a small amount of blood that began slowly trickling onto the ground.

"Leave him out of this," Nick replied dangerously. "I don't want to hurt any of you if I don't have to, but if you hurt him…." He really didn't want to hurt a bunch of teenagers, and he would have much preferred arresting them, but he couldn't let them kill Monroe either.

"Put down your gun, or I slit his throat, right now," Luke growled in reply, more lion than human now, his fangs shining in the moonlight.

"If you let him go, you can take me," Nick replied, trying to hide the desperation in his voice, "but only if he's left unharmed."

"I don't think you heard me, Grimm," Luke's voice rose sharply in anger, "put down that gun now, or he's dead!" With that, he bared his inhuman teeth, and went to bite down on Monroe's jugular. Monroe remained still and motionless the entire time, completely oblivious to what was happening around him while he was knocked out.

"Ok, ok!" Nick raised his hands in surrender, knowing there was no other choice. He reluctantly put his gun slowly down on the ground and stepped away. "The gun is down. Now let him go."

"Yea right," the young lion laughed sadistically, "we can't let our biggest attraction just walk away." He motioned at the two large Lowen teens to his right. "Restrain him."

It took all of Nick's self-control not to fight back as the two young Lowen (who were abnormally strong) roughly grabbed his arms, wrenching them behind him and tying his hands securely behind his back. But if he had any hopes of getting Monroe out of this safely while he was still down for the count, then he had to go along with their plan for now.

"Mike, get his phone and gun," Luke ordered the other teen, and Mike hesitantly approached Nick, slowly taking his gun off the ground and then the phone from his pocket.

"Mike, you don't have to do this," Nick tried as the teen's eyes met his, steadily holding his gaze. "You're better than this, better than them. Make the right choice here."

Mike looked back at him sadly, hesitating with an unsure look on his face, before he finally shook his head slightly and slowly backed away to return to Luke's side. Nick sighed in defeat. He had thought that maybe he could get through to Mike, who didn't seem to have the same violent ruthlessness as the others.

Nick grunted as the other Lowen teens jerked him forwards, each one with a massive hand on either of his arms, forcing him to look upright as their gang leader approached.

Luke came towards him slowly and stopped to look him directly in the eyes. "I'm the one in charge now, so you had better listen carefully."

"You guys won't get away with this," Nick replied calmly, although his voice was clearly laced with anger. "I'm a cop, and the Portland PD will be looking for me. Stop this now, and I'll be able to help you even. I can ask for a lighter sentence for all of you, but I can't do anything if you kill me or him. Just think about what you're doing guys, before it's too late to fix it."

"You're not going to arrest any of us," Luke growled back, his eyes glowing as he looked at Nick, "and I won't be killing anyone. You will."

"I already told you, there's no way I'll fight him, or anyone for that matter," Nick should his head vehemently as he regarded the deranged teenager.

"Well, then you'll be the one that dies," Luke shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't really matter to me."

"Monroe won't fight me either," Nick tipped his head at his unconscious friend, "so your great plan isn't really all that great."

"Maybe normally he wouldn't," Luke paused, smirking back at him with an unsettling gleam in his eyes, "but with what I've given him, he won't able to control it."

Nick's blood ran cold at his words, and he narrowed his eyes at Luke in accusation. "What did you do to him?"

"Oh, just a little natural enhancement," Luke replied with a tone of amusement, walking over to nudge Monroe carelessly with his foot, "and it works great on Blutbads and Schakals, to name a few. Really brings out their wild side, you know what I mean?" He turned back to Nick with a look of pure sadistic pleasure on his face. "So however much he may call you his friend and not normally want to rip you apart…in a little while, he won't even know who you are. All he'll know is that he's locked in a cage with a Grimm of all things, and I hear Blutbad protective instincts are _really_ gruesome…."

He paused, giving Nick a careless shrug. "So it's either kill or be killed, because only one of you will walk out of that ring alive. Either way, it's going to be a great show."

* * *

"Monroe, wake up."

"C'mon Monroe, wake up!"

"Ugh," Monroe slowly peered open his eyes, groaning as the dim lights above assaulted his retinas and made his already pounding headache even worse.

He blinked rapidly as he brought Nick into focus, hovering anxiously over him. "…what the hell, dude?"

"Hey, you're awake," Nick breathed a sigh of relief, sitting back to give Monroe some room as he gingerly sat up. He placed his head in his hands, wincing at the deep throbbing at the back of his head.

"What happened?" he grimaced, glancing slowly back up at Nick, who was still kneeling next to him.

"Well, uh, remember what happened last time we were at the Lowen Games?" Nick began slowly, before gesturing with his hand to their surroundings.

It was then that Monroe finally noticed that they were in a large cage, very similar to the one they had been forced to fight in before. He quickly scanned the cage, noting the archaic weapons and fresh blood stains, as well as no exit to be seen.

"Dude," Monroe groaned as he gave Nick a dubious look. "How did this even happen?"

"Wolfsbane," Nick answered between gritted teeth, standing up and offering Monroe a hand, which he gratefully accepted. He swayed on his feet a little bit, the world still spinning from the force of the blow to his head, but Nick quickly reached out and steadied him.

Once he was able to stand without the threat of toppling over, he looked back over at Nick again. "Wolfsbane, huh? These punk kids are a little smarter than we thought."

"Unfortunately," Nick shook his head, before looking back at Monroe regretfully. "Listen, I'm sorry I got you into this mess. Again."

Monroe shrugged at that, gently massaging his temples in hopes of lessening his massive headache. "Wouldn't be the first time. But hey, look at it this way, at least they put us in here together to face down whoever we're fighting."

He didn't miss the look of hesitation the crossed Nick's face at his words, or the way he suddenly avoided his gaze, and he quickly narrowed his eyes at him. "Ok, just tell me. What is it?"

Nick sighed, looking back at him with concern. "They want us to fight each other."

Monroe gave him a dumbfounded look, before he scoffed, shaking his head. "Yea right. They should know that's not going to work. There's no way we'd actually fight each other."

"Yea, that's what I said," Nick responded, looking back at him seriously, and Monroe felt a tingle of dread run down his spine.

"But?" he encouraged, bracing himself for whatever he was going to say next.

"They did something to you," Nick replied, running a hand roughly over his face.

"They did something to me? Like what?" Monroe stepped closer to the Grimm, searching his face urgently for answers when he didn't immediately reply. "Nick, something like what?"

Nick shook his head, looking uncertain. "I'm not exactly sure, but the Lowen kid who is running this whole operation said he gave you some sort of 'natural enhancement', that would put your primal instincts in control…"

"Oh my God," Monroe breathed, his blood running cold at Nick's words.

"Do you know what it is?" Nick questioned in concern when he saw Monroe's reaction.

"Oh man," Monroe ran a hand through his hair haphazardly, wincing slightly as he brushed over the large knot on the back of his head, "if it is what I think it is, then this is really, _really_ bad."

"So this drug will really make you lose control?" Nick's eyes widened at this realization.

"Dude," Monroe started pacing uneasily around the cage, looking desperately for a way out even though he knew there wouldn't be one, "it turns Wesen, like me, into pure animals. All shred of humanity is stripped away, and only the beast is left. It's highly illegal and hard to find, I don't even know how these kids got their hands on it…" He paused suddenly, turning back to Nick in sheer panic.

"They want me to kill you," he realized painfully, closing his eyes. "Oh my God, that's why they have us locked in here together." His eyes flew back open to look at Nick. "They want us to fight to the death."

Nick smiled grimly at him. "I know, Monroe."

"Well, shouldn't you be, I don't know, a little more _concerned_?" Monroe shot back, pacing in agitation around the cage again, still frantically looking for a way out.

"You really think that you would try to kill me, even while drugged?" Nick raised his eyebrows in surprise, stepping closer and laying a hand gently on his shoulder to stop his pacing.

Monroe stopped sharply at his touch, giving him an apprehensive look. "Like I said, it will make me pure beast. I won't be in control, and I won't know you as my friend…but the primal Blutbad side _will_ know you as a Grimm, and there is no just erasing centuries of bloodlust instinct against your kind."

Nick swallowed thickly, his hand dropping quickly from Monroe's shoulder as he realized the gravity of the situation. "So what do you want me to do?"

Monroe put his head in his hands, taking in a shaky breath, before he looked back up to meet Nick's worried gaze, a pained expression clearly etched on his face.

"You have to kill me."

"Wait, what?" Nick replied in utter disbelief, looking at him in confusion. "Monroe, you can't be serious."

"I am," Monroe replied hoarsely, looking miserably back at Nick. "You have to kill me before I kill you."

"No," Nick shook his head vehemently, "no way in hell. There's no way I will kill you Monroe, no matter how violent you get. There has to be another way."

"Nick, listen to me," Monroe said urgently, stepping forward and tightly gripping him by both shoulders, desperate to convince him now. "You don't understand how ugly this is going to get. Once I lose control, I will stop at nothing to rip your throat out, don't you get that? You have to do this, or you're dead."

Nick held his gaze firmly, and Monroe found himself secretly hating his stubborn streak at that moment. "If I have to fight you, I will. But there's no way I would actually go through with it."

"You don't get it," Monroe could feel the panic rising up in him again, and he fought frantically to push it back down, "I'll just keep coming for you until one of us is dead! This drug won't wear off until there's blood."

"Well, I'll hold you off for as long as I can," Nick tried to reassure him, but it fell on deaf ears.

Monroe shook his head in disagreement, sighing deeply. "No you won't. You won't be able to hold me off forever. Blutbads in full kill-mode have more endurance than any other Wesen. That's why we're so dangerous in packs…" he trailed off, looking back at Nick with full remorse. "Oh God, I'm going to end up killing you…because you're too stubborn, or maybe stupid, to save your own life." He turned away, running his hands roughly over his face, sucking in a deep breath to calm his rapidly fraying nerves.

"You wouldn't kill me," Nick replied calmly, trying to sound confident, but Monroe could hear the slight undertones of doubt in his voice. "I don't believe that deep down you won't know me, on some level. So the drug might make you attack me, sure, but I don't think you'd actually go for the kill."

"And thinking like that is what's going to get you killed!" Monroe wheeled around, his eyes momentarily flashing a crimson red, causing Nick to involuntarily take a step back. "Jesus, Nick, the only thing that will stop me from tearing you apart is if you kill me first!"

Nick opened his mouth to respond, to no doubt argue how he still wouldn't kill him regardless of his warnings to do otherwise, but Monroe just turned away, pacing once more around the cage in desperation. He could already feel the wolf within starting to rise up, and he fought madly to suppress it. He knew it wouldn't be much longer until he lost full control, and turned on Nick…

He couldn't let that happen.

"Hey!" he shouted out into the empty sawmill, looking for one of the Lowen kids, banging loudly on the metal bars of the cage. "Hey, you idiot Lowen! Let me out of here right now before I tear your hearts out!"

"Monroe…" Nick tried to placate him, but Monroe just brushed him off, continually shouting until his throat was raw, determined to get their attention.

"Enough!" Luke finally emerged, glaring murderously at Monroe through the bars of the cage, Mike and another Lowen teen at his side. "We're about to let in the guests, and it's bad for business if you use up all of your energy now." He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking slightly. "Save it for the fight."

"Listen here you little…" Monroe growled, straining through the bars to take a swipe at the cocky young Lowen, but Luke just took a careful step back out of reach. He nodded at the burly teen next to him, who stepped forward with an electric cattle prod in his hands.

Monroe paused, backing away from the bars slightly as he remembered the effects of the cattle prod from the last Games. "You were saying?" Luke raised an eyebrow, looking amused when Monroe didn't respond.

"End this now," Nick stepped up to the bars shoulder to shoulder with Monroe, narrowing his eyes at Luke. "You won't get away with this."

"But I think I already have," Luke shrugged, not looking the least bit concerned with the consequences. "Seriously, by the time anybody finds you guys, one of you will be dead, and the other one will be my new star attraction. It's gonna be great."

He turned to look at Mike, who was standing a little ways away, watching the whole exchange with a look of shame. "Mike, why don't you actually be useful and guard these morons until the show starts. Make sure the fighting doesn't start too early, or you know what will happen." Mike swallowed thickly, nodding in understanding, and slowly took the cattle prod from the other teen.

"Good," Luke said, before he turned back to glare sadistically at Nick and Monroe. "May the best man win."

* * *

"Oh man, this is bad, this is so bad," Monroe was pacing around the cage again, repeatedly running his hands through his hair and looking as though he was about to fall apart.

Nick sighed, glancing over at his friend and refusing to start panicking himself. At least one of them had to remain calm if they were going to get out of this mess. "Monroe, just calm down. You getting worked up isn't going to help the situation."

"Damn it Nick, I'm not worked up!" Monroe growled, more wolf than human, and effectively kicked one of the discarded shields at the side of the cage in Nick's direction. Nick quickly ducked out of the way as the shield flew by his head, landing with a loud crash against the bars behind him.

Nick turned back to look at Monroe, unable to hide the surprise on his face or his growing concern. Monroe just stared back at him in shock, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

"Uh, Nick, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…." he trailed off, shaking his head and sucking in a deep breath, sounding completely defeated. "I'm already slipping."

"Already?" Nick raised his eyebrows at this. He had thought that maybe they had a little more time.

They didn't.

Monroe shook his head miserably, closing his eyes and turning away from Nick, his voice barely more than a whisper when he replied. "Yea."

"Just try to stay calm, for as long as you can," Nick tried unsuccessfully to reassure him, and Monroe just nodded, turning away from him and continually sucking in deep breaths as a last ditch effort to reign in his inner wolf, muttering quietly to himself.

Nick swung around to locate Mike, who was standing just outside the cage bars, watching the whole exchange with wide-eyes. "Mike, please, you have to help us. You know this isn't right, and I know you don't agree with what Luke and the others are doing. You can stop this."

Mike swallowed thickly, glancing nervously over his shoulder to make sure the others weren't nearby. Certain that the coast was clear, he stepped even closer to the cage, talking to Nick in hushed tones.

"Nick, I'm so sorry," he said hurriedly, still glancing around in case Luke might suddenly pop up next to him, "you have to know that I never wanted any part in this…"

"It's ok, Mike, it's ok," Nick quickly soothed the anxious teen, trying his best to muster up a reassuring smile. "But you can fix this, right now, by letting us out of here."

Mike shook his head miserably. "You don't understand. It's Jenny."

Nick looked back at him in confusion. Something in the kid's tone concerned him. "What about Jenny?"

"Luke has her locked up somewhere," Mike replied urgently, looking at Nick in desperation. "That's why I set you up. Luke knew you were friends with a Blutbad somehow, and he said Jenny would get hurt if I didn't convince you guys to come here. I'm so sorry Nick, but if I didn't do it, I didn't know what he would do to her. He's crazy!"

So_ that's_ why Mike had set them up, against his better judgment. His almost-girlfriend was in danger, from her own sadistic brother. Nick clenched his jaw in anger at this thought, before looking seriously back at Mike. "I promise you, Mike, if you get us out of here, I'll do everything I can to help Jenny. But I can't do anything from in here, do you understand? Please, just open the cage, and I swear to you Luke won't get away with this."

"If Luke finds out you're gone, then he'll know I did it, and Jenny is toast!" Mike said remorsefully. "I'm sorry Nick…but I just can't. Please try to understand."

Nick sighed, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. He did understand, who knows what lengths he would go to if it was Juliette in danger, but if they didn't get out of that cage, and soon, Nick feared he would be locked in a death match with his best friend.

He glanced back up at Mike, who was still looking back at him helplessly, waiting for guidance. "Ok, well don't let us out of the cage then. But you can still help us, and Luke won't even know until it's too late."

Mike blinked back at him in confusion, listening eagerly to his words. "How?"

"Do you still have my phone?" Nick asked quickly, dropping his voice even lower in case someone else might overhear.

Mike nodded his head in confirmation. "Yea, it's in my pocket."

Nick breathed out a sigh of relief at that information. "Good. As soon as the match starts, slip away and call Hank Griffin from my phone contacts. Tell him what's going on, he'll understand, and he'll take care of the rest. Then you get out of here as fast as you can, got it?"

Mike swallowed, nodding in agreement. "O-ok," he replied shakily, "I'll do it. Promise."

"Thanks Mike," Nick looked back at him gratefully, "and I swear to you, we'll get Jenny back."

Mike nodded in understanding, before quickly stepping away from the cage. A moment later, the rusted doors on the other end of the building swung open, and Luke stepped in, ushering a large crowd of guests into the abandoned structure.

Nick backed away from the bars towards the center of the cage, narrowing his eyes in contempt at the bloodthirsty Lowen and other lowlife Wesen who had come to see him fight Monroe. There was a mix of teens and adults, and Nick was disgusted that there were adults who were actually supporting Luke's sick behavior. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and glanced to the other side of the cage at Monroe.

Monroe had stayed uncharacteristically quiet the entire time he had talked to Mike, but now Nick could see why. He was leaning against the far bars of the cage, breathing heavily, and slowly wogeing in and out of full wolf mode. His hands were wrapped tightly around the bars, as if he was trying to anchor himself there.

The drug was starting to take effect.

"Monroe?" he asked gently, taking a few cautious steps towards his friend.

"Stay back," Monroe growled in response, his voice more animal than man.

"Monroe, listen to me," Nick tried again, keeping his voice soothing and calm, approaching him much like he would a wounded animal. "You know it's me. You won't hurt me, no matter how far gone you are." He came closer, stopping just behind Monroe now, trying to get him to turn and look at him, but the Blutbad refused.

"Don't come any closer," his voice had a deep, threatening tone to it now. "I mean it, Nick."

"Monroe, it's ok," Nick tried again, determined to get through to his friend, regardless of the danger. "I trust you."

"Damn it Nick, stay back!" Monroe wheeled around, eyes red and full of anger, and he suddenly lunged forwards and shoved Nick back with an impossible strength. Nick was completely unprepared for Monroe to turn on him, and he went flying backwards across the cage until he crashed into the bars at the other side, effectively smacking his head on the hard metal as stars exploded before his eyes.

As the thickening crowd gathered around the cage, several of them cheered and hollered out, while others quickly moved to finish their bets.

"My money's on the Blutbad!"

"I'll take the long odds on the Grimm!"

"Oh this is going to be a shitshow!"

Nick shook his head, blinking to clear his vision, and quickly scrambled back to his feet, leaning against the bars for support as he stood too quickly and the world tilted dangerously for a moment.

Monroe was still at the far end of the cage, back in human form now for a moment, and his whole body visibly trembling with the effort to not wolf out again. He looked despondently back at Nick, shaking his head in defeat.

"I'm sorry Nick, I'm not going to be in control much longer. I'm so, so sorry…"

"It's ok," Nick quickly shook his head to reassure him, "I should have known better than to come up behind you like that. I'm fine."

"Yea, well you won't be in a few minutes," Monroe closed his eyes painfully, clenching his fists tightly and sucking in a deep breath. "Get a weapon."

Nick nodded absently, looking to his left to see the shield that Monroe had kicked at him earlier, and quickly bent to pick it up. He surveyed the other weapons carelessly littered around the cage, but found that there was nothing he could use to face Monroe without seriously injuring him.

He hoped the shield would be enough.

"Welcome, welcome," Luke suddenly said from behind him, and Nick turned around to see the Lowen teen up on a stool next to the cage, excitedly greeting the bloodthirsty crowd. "I'm so glad you all could make it to this very special edition of the Lowen Games!"

The crowd roared in delight at his words, and Luke grinned, relishing in their applause and waiting until it died down to continue. "Tonight's fight will feature a Blutbad versus a Grimm, which has to be a pretty rare thing. Hurry and get your final bets in folks, the match will be starting any second now. And in honor of what my Uncle Leo started so long ago, and in his memory, let the games begin!" The crowd cheered and clapped loudly again at his words.

Nick gritted his teeth at Luke's words. Uncle Leo, that could only mean Leo Taymor, who had been behind the Lowen Games before. Of course his nephew would be the one to start up the family tradition again.

Some sudden gasps from the crowd caught Nick's attention then, and suddenly all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He turned around to see a fully woged and angry Monroe descending on him, his deep red eyes full of bloodlust and no recognition.

* * *

"Monroe, it's me!" Nick cried out as Monroe slammed him up against the bars again, holding him up by the collar of the shirt and growling dangerously in his face. Nick struggled to push back, but his feet were barely touching the ground and his arms were pinned at his sides.

"Monroe, listen, you won't do this," Nick tried again, fearlessly looking his far-gone friend in the eyes. "You won't kill me."

Monroe growled again, sharp teeth bared, before slamming Nick up against the bars again with tremendous force. Nick fought to stay focused as his body was rammed against the hard metal bars once again, searching his friend's face desperately for any recognition. "Monroe, it's Nick, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

Monroe paused at his words, and Nick thought maybe the furious wolf recognized him for a moment. Monroe suddenly stepped back, dropping Nick carelessly in a heap at his feet amidst the cries and cheers of the crowd around them.

Nick shook his head, quickly trying to clear the stars before his eyes for the second time in what felt like just minutes. He hastily scrambled to his feet and away from Monroe, picking up his fallen shield.

Monroe stood, in full Blutbad form now, breathing heavily, claws elongating and whole body trembling with effort. He made to move towards Nick again, before suddenly taking a step backwards, shaking his head and growling in visible frustration. Nick's eyes widened in realization of what was happening.

Monroe was fighting back against the drug.

"That's it Monroe," Nick talked to him, keeping his voice as calm and as steady as possible. "I know you don't want to do this. Keep fighting it, don't let these sick Lowen turn you into something you're not."

His words elicited booing from the crowd, and several jeers from the rowdiest onlookers.

"Just kill him already!"

"Tear his face off, you ugly Blutbad!"

"I thought Grimms were supposed to be killers!"

Nick winced at the last jab, turning to glance briefly in anger at the crowd, before turning his full attention back to Monroe. He had already made the mistake of turning his back on Monroe once, and he knew he better not do it again while he was in this state.

Monroe was still standing, rooted to the spot, and looked like he was fighting some sort of an inner battle, and Nick couldn't even begin to imagine how painful it must be. His red eyes were still fixated on him, but he made no move to lunge at him again. Nick started feeling hopeful that maybe Monroe would be able to hold out long enough until Hank arrived with back up.

That hope quickly dissipated when one of Luke's gang members came around the side of the cage and effectively struck Monroe with the cattle prod.

Monroe howled in rage, wheeling around and trying to strike at the young Lowen through the bars, knocking the cattle prod out of his hands and into the cheering crowd before the shocked teen could even react. Nick waited, arming himself with the shield in front of him, and his heart stopped when Monroe turned back around and his bloodthirsty eyes settled on him.

The Blutbad in front of him was no longer Monroe. It was pure killer.

Without any hesitation, Monroe lunged forwards in full attack mode, straight towards him. Nick braced himself for the attack, and found himself slightly amazed at how quickly Monroe moved while in this form.

He struck Monroe hard in the shoulder with the shield, throwing him slightly off balance as he flew past him, giving Nick just enough time to side step his attack. However, the force of Monroe hitting against the shield was so powerful that Nick stumbled a bit, and barely had time to prepare himself for Monroe's next attack.

Monroe was on him in a fury now, teeth bared and claws swiping, looking at Nick with such rage that he wasn't sure how long he would actually be able to hold him off. Monroe threw him back against the bars again, and Nick pushed back with all of his strength with the shield between them, finally able to shove Monroe back far enough to duck into a somersault, landing nimbly on his feet behind the angry wolf. As grateful as he was for his quick Grimm reflexes, he was beginning to doubt that he would have enough moves to hold off a murderous Blutbad in a small cage for very long.

Monroe turned quickly, clearly sizing up the distance between them, before leaping up into the air at an impressive height and landing nearly on top of Nick. The force of his landing threw them both to the ground, and Nick knew if Monroe got him pinned, then this would quickly be over. He rolled with the force of Monroe's weight, throwing him upwards over his head as he kicked his legs out. Monroe flew into the bars at the other end of the cage, landing in a heap and looking stunned for a moment that Nick had used his kill move against him.

Nick quickly wiped the sweat from his brow as he jumped to his feet, holding the shield in front of him again and bracing for another attack, trying to ignore the fatigue that was already settling in his muscles from the effort of fighting against Monroe. If he kept attacking with the force he was using now, Nick wasn't sure how long he could truly hold him off.

_Where the hell was Hank?_

"Monroe, c'mon man, it's me," Nick tried again desperately as Monroe slowly climbed to his feet, circling around the cage across from Nick much like a wolf sizing up its prey. "You know me. I know you don't want to do this."

Monroe paused, eyes glowing murderously at him, but he didn't make another move to come towards him.

"Fight it, Monroe, keep fighting it," Nick urged, wondering if his words were actually getting through to his friend beneath the murderous Wesen in front of him. "I know you're in there, just listen to my voice. This isn't you, we both know you're not a killer."

Monroe shook his head, fighting some inner battle again, before he let out another howl of rage and turned to the bars behind him, gripping one with each fur-covered hand and shaking them with unbridled strength. Nick's eyes widened in surprise as the bars actually began to bend under the force of Monroe's strength.

But Luke was quickly there, using the cattle prod himself this time, zapping Monroe again. Monroe howled in rage once more, turning to look back at Nick, but he made no move to lunge at him this time.

"That's it, Monroe!" Nick told him encouragingly. "You got this! Don't let them win!"

"Shut-up, Grimm!" Luke snarled viciously, in full Lowen form now as he struck Monroe with the prod again. Monroe grunted in pain, falling to his knees next to bars of the cage, whole body shuddering with effort not to attack and the effects of the prod's electrocution running through his body.

"You won't win this, Luke," Nick shot back angrily, clenching his fists. "End this right now!"

"No way!" Luke yelled in fury, striking Monroe again and again with the prod. "Get up and fight, Blutbad! Kill the Grimm before he kills you!"

Monroe was on his hands and knees now, whole body shaking uncontrollably, but he made no move to get away or to fight. He slumped there in defeat, letting Luke electrocute him again and again.

"Stop!" Nick demanded, throwing down his shield and making his way towards them. He had to stop Luke before he killed Monroe, and for some reason Monroe was no longer trying to attack, just sitting there and accepting his fate. Luke ignored Nick, yelling again and again at Monroe, striking him with the prod even more urgently as the crowd began to boo loudly, some even demanding their money back.

Nick looked around frantically for something he could use to stop Luke, and noticed a bloodstained sword to the right side of the cage. He quickly knelt and grabbed it, jumping to his feet and rushing to Monroe's side.

Luke was so focused in rage at Monroe not getting back up to fight that he didn't notice Nick until he was right next to them. Nick swung down with all his strength through the narrow space between the bars, using the blunt side of the sword to hit Luke right in the head, effectively knocking him unconscious. The Lowen slumped to the ground outside the cage amid gasps of surprise and wonder from the crowd.

"My money's on the Grimm!"

Nick stood, breathing heavily as he looked down at Luke's unconscious form in disgust, sword still in hand. He was too distracted to notice Monroe slowly looking up at him.

Monroe growled menacingly at him, taking in Nick standing over him and holding a sword, sizing up the threat. Nick realized too late that standing over Monroe with a weapon in hand had set off every alarm bell in the Blutbad's heritage that he was a dangerous threat that needed to be eliminated.

"Monroe, look, it's me," Nick said quietly, slowly backing away from him with his hands raised in surrender. "Don't do this. You don't want to do this." He started to carefully set down the sword, when one of the spectators banged loudly on the bars next to Monroe.

"Kill the Grimm!"

Monroe jumped at the loud noise, and any waning control he might have had was suddenly gone. He was on top of Nick before he could even set down the sword, throwing him to the ground with such force that all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Nick still had the sword in one hand, and instinctively he brought it up, trying to hold off Monroe as he snarled above him, teeth getting dangerously close to his jugular with every second. He was pinned helplessly under Monroe this time, and there would be no quick moves to get away with the death grip he had on him.

He pushed the edge of the sword up against Monroe's neck before he even realized what he was happening, his own instincts and sense of self-preservation kicking in. The only thing holding Monroe off from tearing out his throat was the edge of the sword's blade pressed up against his neck, but he didn't even seem to notice in his furious rage, even as the blade drew a small trickle of blood against his skin.

Nick froze as he realized what he was doing, swallowing thickly in dread. He had no room to maneuver to deliver a striking blow as he had done to Luke, or to even hit Monroe somewhere else that would injure but not kill him. He was pinned with the sword up against Monroe's neck, the only thing between them, with no other chance of escape. All he had to do was thrust the sword up into the Blutbad's neck…

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill Monroe, even if that meant Monroe would kill him.

"Damn it," he breathed, before dropping the sword carelessly to the side. He tried pushing Monroe off of him with all of his strength, but it was no use. Monroe had the upper hand this time and there was no getting away, his sharp fangs getting closer and closer to him, even as he fought.

"Monroe, stop, it's me!" Nick tried desperately one last time, but the eyes looking back at him held no trace of his friend. Nick was tiring quickly, unable to hold off the snarling Blutbad on top of him much longer, and he knew Hank wouldn't make it in time.

It was over. He just hoped Monroe wouldn't blame himself for this.

"Monroe, listen to me," Nick began again, his voice full of defeat, "if you're in there, this wasn't your fault. I don't blame you." Nick closed his eyes, painfully whispering the last words.

"I forgive you."

With that, Monroe finally overpowered him, and all Nick knew was teeth and blood and pain before everything went dark.

* * *

Monroe groggily opened his eyes, the world fuzzy and spinning above him as he lay sprawled out on his back, the hard surface uncomfortable beneath him.

"Ugh," he groaned, closing his eyes again, "you owe me for this one, Nick."

It was then that he became slowly aware of loud voices all around him, as if he was in the middle of a crowd or a concert or something, and he opened his eyes again, swallowing thickly as he tried to recall what had happened through the fog of his aching head.

It was then that he noticed it. Blood. He could taste blood.

His eyes shot open as everything started to come back to him.

There were Lowen kids, and he and Nick locked in the cage, and the drug…

_Nick._

Monroe sat up quickly, almost vomiting at the wave of nausea that came over him, the world spinning wildly around him as he blinked rapidly in a vain effort to clear his vision.

He was still in the cage, and the spectators were still milling about outside it, demanding money for their bets and cheering wildly if they had won. But Monroe ignored them all, scanning desperately around the cage, and his heart stopped when his eyes finally landed on the eerily still form a few feet away.

Nick laid motionless on his back on the hard cage floor, a pool of blood slowly growing around his head. Monroe turned to his side and promptly vomited when he realized what he'd done.

"No," Monroe breathed in disbelief, wiping his mouth subconsciously on the back of his hand and turning back to stare at the motionless form of his friend.

"No no nononono…."

Nick was dead, and it was all his fault. He had killed him.

"Oh God," Monroe was hyperventilating now, running his bloody hands wildly through his hair as he looked at Nick. He couldn't bring himself to come any closer, just staring in shock and agony at his unmoving form. "Oh my God…Nick…I didn't mean…Oh God…no…"

Just then, a loud crashing noise and several shouts briefly snapped him back to his senses, and Monroe looked over to be blinded by flashing lights as the Portland PD finally arrived, Hank leading the brigade. He just stared at them numbly, as the crowd began to frantically disperse, yelling and scrambling to get away, but the police had the place surrounded.

Monroe shook his head, looking back at Nick again as he sat frozen in place. He miserably half-hoped one of the cops would realize what he had done to one of their own and shoot him on sight. He would have gladly pulled the trigger himself at that moment.

His eyes were glued to the disgusting amount of blood on the ground next to Nick's head. Monroe closed his eyes painfully, unable to block out the taste or smell of his blood. It was everywhere.

Blutbads always went for the kill, for the throat…and there was no surviving that.

"Monroe!" a voice startled him suddenly, and he opened his eyes to see Hank in the cage now, kneeling next to Nick, looking worriedly over at him and then back down at his partner. "Monroe, are you alright? What the hell happened here?"

Monroe just stared at him numbly, unable to register anything past the fact that he had just killed his best friend.

"I, uh, I…" he began lamely, unable to form any coherent words. He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat as he looked back at Hank miserably, closing his eyes as he whispered the words. "Nick's dead…"

Hank shook his head in disbelief, quickly leaning over Nick and assessing his injuries, placing his fingers against his neck and checking for a pulse. He sat back, breathing out a sigh of relief. "No he's not, but we need to get him to a hospital. He's hurt pretty bad."

Monroe's eyes flew open at these words, and his heart picked up a beat, hoping against hope that Hank was right. He staggered to his feet and made his way over to Hank and Nick, falling hard on his knees next to his still form. It was then that he noticed the shallow rise and fall of Nick's chest, and when he finally examined the heavily bleeding wound, he noticed that is was centered on Nick's shoulder, and not his neck after all.

_Nick was alive._

Monroe could barely breathe at this realization, feeling as though he was losing his grip on the world around him. He looked back at Hank with such a dazed and pained look on his face that Hank raised his eyebrows at him questioningly.

"Are you alright? You're covered in blood," the detective asked worriedly, looking Monroe up and down. When Monroe nodded vaguely in response, Hank nodded, before turning away to call the paramedics urgently over to them.

The paramedics swarmed the cage, surrounding Nick and assessing his injuries. Hank stood up and took Monroe's arm, reluctantly pulling him out of the way so the paramedics could work.

"What the hell did this to him?" Hank asked quietly with a tone of disgust, his jaw clenching as he watched the paramedics work on Nick. He turned to look at Monroe, waiting for an explanation.

Monroe was quiet for a long moment before he looked over at Hank, his voice hoarse and pained when he finally spoke.

"I did."

* * *

"Hey, you're up early."

Monroe jumped in place from where he had been staring absently out the kitchen window, coffee in hand as he watched the sun peek up over the horizon.

He turned around to look tiredly at Rosalee. "Yea. Couldn't sleep."

"Again?" she frowned, coming closer to him and assessing him with worried eyes. "You've hardly been sleeping the last couple of weeks."

"Yea, kind of hard to sleep when all I dream about is tearing Nick's heart out," Monroe gave her a pained look, before turning to look absently out the window again, his hands shaking so hard he had to set down the coffee cup before he broke it.

"Monroe," Rosalee tried gently, coming to stand next to him and grabbing one of his shaking hands, "you know what happened with Nick wasn't your fault. No one blames you for what happened, least of all him."

"Doesn't really make me feel any better," Monroe muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at her. "I tried to kill him."

"But you didn't Monroe," she reassured him. "Have you talked to him since the hospital?"

Monroe shook his head in response. He had initially gone to the hospital, and once Nick was out of surgery and he was sure he would be alright, he had firmly kept his distance. Nick had called him multiple times since then, but Monroe couldn't bring himself to answer the phone or call him back.

How was he supposed to face Nick now after what he had done to him?

"You should talk to him, Monroe," Rosalee urged him gently, "he's been trying to get a hold of you."

"I know," Monroe sighed, shaking his head miserably. "I just can't…"

He was interrupted by a sharp knocking at the front door. He furrowed his eyebrows at Rosalee. "Are you expecting anybody?"

She shook her head, moving from Monroe's side to head towards the front door. "I'll get it."

Monroe nodded absently, before tentatively sniffing the air and knowing _immediately_ who it was.

"Rosalee, wait!" Monroe called out, following her into the living room, but it was too late.

"Nick, Juliette, what a pleasant surprise," Rosalee smiled, swinging the door wide and letting them both in.

"Sorry we're here so early," Juliette apologized as she and Rosalee exchanged a warm hug, "or that we didn't call."

"Don't apologize, you guys are always welcome," Rosalee reassured them, guiding them both into the living room. Monroe stood awkwardly in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, unable to make himself take another step closer as he looked at Nick. Despite his injury, the only visible remains of the attack was the blue sling that was currently supporting his injured arm.

"How's the shoulder, Nick?" Rosalee asked him as Nick carefully settled himself on the couch, avoiding jostling his injured arm.

"Much better," Nick smiled at her, his eyes flickering over to Monroe before moving back to Rosalee. "A couple more weeks of physical therapy and I'll be as good as new."

"That's great," Rosalee patted his knee, before looking over to where Monroe was still frozen in his tracks. "Hey, Juliette," she turned to look back at her friend, "I was just about to make breakfast…"

"Sure, I'd love to help," Juliette smiled, quickly catching on, before both women moved into the kitchen, leaving Monroe and Nick alone to talk.

Monroe awkwardly shuffled into the living room and sat down in the chair across from Nick, not missing the way the Grimm was watching him. After an awkward pause, Nick finally broke the silence.

"We found Jenny," he said, watching him carefully, "and her and Mike are both ok."

"Uh, that's good, that's really good," Monroe responded quietly, absently nodding at Nick's words.

"And Luke and his friends have all been charged with attempted murder," Nick added quietly. "They won't get away with this."

Monroe gritted his teeth involuntarily at mention of the teenage Lowen who had been responsible for this whole mess. "That's even better news."

"Yea. The Lowen Games are over again. Hopefully this time we can make sure it stays that way," Nick responded, a hint of resolve in his voice.

Monroe nodded in response, not really knowing what else to say. After a long pause, he finally asked, "so, your shoulder is really better?" He was barely able to meet Nick's gaze.

"Yea, it's really better," Nick told him firmly, leaning forwards across the table to look directly at Monroe. "Really, the only thing that's wrong now is that you won't talk to me."

Monroe blanched at his words, dropping his gaze and studying the rug on the floor intently. "Sorry," he offered lamely, unsure what else to say.

"Monroe, look," Nick sighed, looking at him seriously, "you have to stop blaming yourself for this. It wasn't your fault."

Monroe's head snapped back up, his eyes glowing a faint red when he looked at Nick. "Nick, I tried to kill you. _Kill you_. And I almost succeeded. What don't you get about that?"

"But you didn't," Nick shot back, his voice determined, "you could have and you _didn't_. That has to count for something."

Monroe shook his head, jumping back up from the chair and purposefully avoiding Nick's gaze. "All it counts for is the fact that we shouldn't be friends anymore. It's too dangerous." He looked painfully back over at Nick. "I'm sorry, but I think it's for the best if we stay out of each other's lives, from now on."

"What?" Nick asked incredulously, standing up off the couch now and moving closer to Monroe. "Are you kidding? All this time we've been friends, you've been in danger because of _me_, and now you suddenly want to cut me out because of this?" he waved at his injured shoulder. "That's ridiculous, Monroe."

Monroe shook his head, steadily holding Nick's questioning gaze. "Nick, I tried to kill you. Hell, I _wanted_ to, I remember that much. I wanted your blood. And I would have killed you, if…"

"But you didn't," Nick argued, looking at Monroe in exasperation. "Monroe, you didn't go for the kill, you went for my shoulder. I think deep down, even with the drug, you knew it was me, whether you want to admit it or not. Otherwise, I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"And that's just the point!" Monroe shot back, running his hands roughly over his face as he regarded Nick. "What's to say that this doesn't happen again, that I don't lose control, and actually succeed in killing you next time?"

Nick shrugged simply with his uninjured shoulder. "Because I trust you."

Monroe huffed in frustration, before his shoulders finally slumped in defeat. "Why?" he whispered painfully, looking back at Nick sadly.

"Because," Nick stepped forward and placed his hand on Monroe's shoulder, "you're my friend, and you've had my back more times than I can count right now. I wouldn't have even made it through the first few months I learned about all this," he gestured between them, "without you, and I'm pretty sure I won't make it very far without you now."

"That's because you have the survival instincts of a lemming," Monroe grumbled in response, but he offered Nick a faint smile. "And besides, you've come a long ways since then. You don't need me that much anymore."

Nick raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes I do. If I don't have you watching my back, what's to say some other Wesen doesn't take me out?"

Monroe scoffed, nodding his head slightly at this. "True," he responded, before letting out a deep sigh. "But dude, you've seen the deepest, darkest part of me. I _never_ wanted anyone to see me like that. That's the monster within, the reason your ancestors wrote about how bad Blutbaden were. You really want to be friends with me, knowing what I'm capable of? What I almost did to you?"

"Yes," Nick told him firmly. "So I've seen you at your worst, you've seen me at my worst too, remember? Does the Cracher-Mortel spell ring a bell?"

"Oh, right," Monroe mused as he looked back at Nick in understanding. Nick had been essentially drugged and tried to kill him before, too. He'd somewhat forgotten about zombie-Nick (and he didn't really want to remember him that way). "Guess you have a point there."

"Exactly," Nick raised his eyebrows at him. "I'd say we're even now."

Monroe snorted, shaking his head, but he was smiling now. "Dude, we're so far from being even. But for what it's worth, I'm so sorry for what I did to you. Is there any way I can make up for it?"

Nick grinned at him, and Monroe laughed, already knowing what Nick was going to say. "Well, the Captain has restricted me to light duty until I get rid of this," he motioned at his sling, "but there's a new case that Hank and I just got, and I'm not sure what it is…"

Monroe held up his hand, sighing in mock exasperation. "Ok, ok, I got it. Trailer?"

"Guys, breakfast is ready!" they heard Rosalee call out from the kitchen just then, and they both paused, looking at each other.

"How about after breakfast?" Nick questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Sounds perfect," Monroe smiled, and they both headed towards the kitchen.

End

* * *

**Hope you all liked this one! Thanks for reading, and as always, for your lovely reviews/follows. They motivate me like you wouldn't believe!**

**Up next: A prompt from the lovely Lostinarwop, who wanted to see something with some more zombie!Nick and that whole experience (since the show sort of dropped the ball on that one, amirite?), and of course I loved this prompt! I'll get that one up as soon as I can, but it may take a little bit. **

**Still taking requests, so if you have one, don't be shy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

** Well, I just want to say I'm **_**so**_** sorry for the long wait on this one! I could give you a litany of excuses, like I've been traveling a lot for both work and vacations, I lost my muse for a while, I had rewatch most of Season 3 to get this right…but I won't do that. I'll just say I'm sorry and I hope this is worth the wait! In fact, this ended up being so long, I had to break it into two parts, so here's part 1! (Maybe I'm not cut out for this one-shot thing haha). **

** This prompt was for the fantastic Lostinarwop, who wanted to see more zombie!Nick and the aftermath of that, which I think we all agree is a great prompt! I feel like there are a million different ways this could be interpreted with the small tidbits the show gave us, before dropping this story line altogether. This is simply my take on it all. I tried to use all the times we did see Nick having some sort of side effect and turn it into a plausible story that might still fit into canon (with some obvious changes I had to make for it all to work).**

** So, there's a few warnings with this one. First, obviously spoilers for the first half of Season 3 as I directly reference many episodes (which if you haven't seen by now, why are you reading this?! Go watch it!).**

** Second, this one does get a little dark later on, and I'm not sure that it quite qualifies for a trigger warning, but I'm going to put one just in case: suicidal idealizations/thoughts. Although that won't happen until part 2 of this…but just in case that's sensitive material for anyone, be forewarned!**

** Let me know what you all think of Part 1, and I'll keep wrapping up Part 2 (needs some more fine-tuning before it's ready for your lovely eyes to see).**

** Read on!**

** ~TheFictionalMe**

* * *

_The one where Nick's post-zombie effects are more serious than any of them thought._

* * *

PART 1

"_Rosalee did say that you're probably gonna react differently from anybody else, I think she's right"_

"_Well, how am I gonna explain that to the doctor?"_

"_I mean, you kind of can't. All we can really do is monitor you and hope that this is temporary."_

"_And what if it isn't? What if this whole thing just starts happening again?"_

* * *

She had almost lost him.

Juliette knew they had come impossibly close to losing Nick this time, and she was acutely aware of that fact. She had almost lost him to Renard's brother and his sadistic plans, almost lost him in the plane crash, almost lost him in the subsequent violent fights while he was infected, almost lost him when they nearly didn't give him the antidote in time, and almost lost him when she couldn't wake him up just a short while ago, fearing the worst.

It was all too much.

_I'm really ok. _That's what Nick had said, reassuring her that he was fine and feeling no ill-effects of his time under the Baron's spell, blowing it off as if nothing was wrong.

But that did little to quell Juliette's rising anxiety about his condition after what his body had been put through. After all, just a few hours ago, he had looked _dead_. Stone cold dead, cold to the touch, pale and lifeless, no pulse….she shuddered; trying to push the thoughts from her mind as she snuggled closer against Nick's soundly sleeping form. She turned her head from her position on his chest to look up at him for the umpteenth time since she had called 911, but fortunately his complexion was normal and he was still breathing softly. She sighed, laying her head back down on his solid chest, trying to feel reassured by the fact that she could still hear the steady _thump thump_ of his heart.

Juliette sighed again, feeling the pure exhaustion aching deep down into her bones, but she already knew that wouldn't be able to sleep. Not when she was terrified that if she closed her eyes again, even for a minute, Nick might not be there when she woke up.

Glancing over at the bedroom window and noting the gray light of dawn was slowly seeping through the shades, she reluctantly sat up. After assessing Nick's condition once again, she quietly disentangled herself from him and slipped stealthily out of the bed. Nick didn't stir at all, lost deep in the throes of badly needed sleep.

She stood at the edge of the bed for a long moment, watching him with tired eyes and silently grateful at the steady rise and fall of his chest. She had been so close to losing him, for good…

Juliette shook her head, desperate to clear the negative thoughts from her sleep-deprived mind, and quickly pulled on her favorite silk robe over her pajamas. She descended the stairs quietly, making her way to the coffee maker and dumping in the grinds. Once the coffee was brewing, she hurriedly made her way back upstairs, stopping once again to check on Nick, trying to quell her rising anxiety that she had been downstairs too long. She let out a deep breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding when she came around to his side of the bed, counting his respirations and feeling relieved. He hadn't even moved, still sleeping deeply.

Satisfied that he was ok for the time being, Juliette made her way to the bathroom and shut the door. A long hot shower sounded wonderful to ease her aching body and her aching heart.

It wasn't just that she had almost lost him. Nick had killed someone.

She was still trying to wrap her mind around _that_ fact. It wasn't his fault, he hadn't known what he was doing, he was poisoned…but it didn't change the fact that someone had died because of it.

It would destroy Nick when he found out. She didn't know how to tell him, but there was no need to just yet. They had all come up with a plausible story at the spice shop, a decent cover to throw the scent off of Nick. No one had any reason to suspect that an upstanding cop of Nick's reputation could have done something so horrendous, even if it wasn't under his free will…

With a yawn, Juliette reached the shower and turned on the hot water, standing back to let it warm up. She dropped her robe and moved to the mirror, critically assessing her own appearance before the steam clouded over the glass.

Her hair was mused from sleep, and her eyes were tired and drawn, bags from worry and lack of sleep prominent beneath them. She turned her head, gently fingering the growing bruise along her face from where Nick had hit her.

She frowned as her fingers tenderly probed the edge of the bruise, desperately blinking back unwanted tears when she thought about how it had gotten there.

She knew, she really did, that it wasn't intentional, that Nick would _never_ hurt her when he was himself, but it didn't stop the heavy feeling in her heart to know that he had inadvertently done this to her.

"Hi," a hoarse voice suddenly said from the bathroom doorway, interrupting her thoughts. Juliette whirled around to see Nick standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame and smiling tiredly at her.

"Hi," she broke into a small smile at the sight of him standing there, beyond grateful that he was awake and alive and _normal_ again. He walked towards her, hair disheveled, a day's worth of dark stubble and slowly healing abrasions covering his face.

But he still looked worlds better than he had before, and Juliette let out an unconscious sigh of relief. She carefully assessed his appearance as he approached her, looking for any more signs that he was still being affected by what he had gone through. He moved slowly, no doubt sore and in pain from his ordeal, but looked to be otherwise fine.

"How are you feeling?"

Nick stopped in front of her, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Ok, I guess. Better than yesterday."

"You look better," she replied earnestly, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he was hiding how he really felt. Nick was somewhat of a martyr that way, never being able to really admit when he was in pain. Juliette paused, her smile slowly turning into a frown as she remembered calling 911 the night before.

Nick furrowed his eyebrows as he noticed her expression change. "What?"

"You really scared me last night," she replied softly, trying to push down her worry for him and failing miserably.

Nick reached out and grabbed her hands, squeezing them gently. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened last night, but honestly I'm feeling better."

Juliette bit her bottom lip, nodding her head slowly. "I still think you should see a doctor."

Nick let out a long sigh. "Ok. If it will make you feel better."

Juliette nodded firmly. "It will. At least I'll feel like I'm doing _something_."

"Juliette," Nick looked at her earnestly, "you DID do something. You saved my life, and probably the lives of countless people, if I hadn't been stopped…"

"It was mostly Rosalee, and Monroe, and Hank," Juliette disagreed, shaking her head in frustration. "Even your Captain was more helpful than me."

"That's not true," Nick shook his head, "you helped more than you know."

He reached out to gently cup her face, and Juliette flinched involuntarily as he touched her, pulling back before she could even stop herself. She closed her eyes and swore at herself internally as she heard Nick's sharp intake of breath. She hadn't meant to react that way, but the memory of him hitting her (although _completely_ out of his control) was still so fresh, she hadn't been able to control her natural reaction.

And now he knew. He had seen the bruise and he knew how it had gotten there. She opened her eyes to meet the pained and horrified expression on his face. "Nick…"

"Wait a second," his eyes widened in horror as he stared back at her, still fixated on the bruise on her face. "Did I…did I do this?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," she quickly reassured him, stepping forwards to squeeze his hands again, "and really, its fine. No big deal, I promise."

"Oh God, I did this to you…" he whispered painfully, clamping his eyes tightly shut and shaking his head miserably. "I'm so so sorry, Juliette, you know I would never ever hurt you…I could never…"

"Nick, I know," she interrupted him firmly, forcing him to look back at her. "I know this wasn't you. You had no idea what you were doing! It was completely out of your control, and I know that."

"That doesn't change the face that I hit you!" he bit out in frustration, pulling away from her and pacing around the bathroom, running a hand roughly over his face.

"Nick, don't…" Juliette began, taking a step towards him, but paused as Nick suddenly froze, as if suspended in time, and his skin turned a sickly grey.

It was happening again.

"Nick?" she asked carefully, coming towards him as he stood before her, unresponsive and unseeing. She reached out a hand to cup his face, and her heart nearly stopped when she felt how frighteningly cold his skin was to the touch beneath the grey pallor. "Nick!"

"Huh?" he suddenly responded, shaking his head slightly as his skin slowly returned to normal. He looked at her in confusion when he noticed her staring up at him in worry. "What? What's wrong?"

Juliette bit her lower lip, shaking her head. He was already so upset, and she didn't want to upset him further until she could figure out what was happening to him. "Uh, nothing. But I think you should lie down again for a while."

He sighed deeply, nodding his head slowly in agreement. He looked over at her miserably, before reaching up to gently finger the bruise on her face.

"I'm so sorry…"

Before he could even begin apologizing again, Juliette reached up and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Nick tensed for a moment, no doubt to protest that he wasn't deserving of her love or some such thing, but she silenced him before he had a chance. After a long moment, she pulled back, looking up at him. "Stop apologizing. I love you and I forgive you, even though there's nothing to be forgiven for."

Nick mustered up a small smile. "Love you too."

"I know," she grinned at him, grabbing his hand and leading him back into the bedroom. "Now let's get you back in bed."

"Is that a doctor's order?" he turned to give her a wry smile as they stopped at the edge of the bed, and she was relieved that he was starting to sound more like himself. She turned to look back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Definitely," she told him with a smirk, but leaving no room for argument. Nick pulled back the covers and obediently climbed back into bed, leaning back against the headboard. He turned to look back at her with a mischievous grin forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Doctor, huh? Guess you better examine me then."

Juliette couldn't help but laugh at that. _That_ sounded like Nick.

"Nice try," she told him firmly but gently, "but I don't think you're ready for that just yet."

Nick sighed, nodding his head slightly as he leaned heavily back against the headboard, his smiling slowly falling as he looked away from her. "Ok."

She frowned as she noted the guilt and dejection now clearly evident in his tone. She sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, gently placing a hand on his arm. "You ok?"

He nodded slowly, but still didn't make eye contact with her. "Yea. I'm good."

Completely unconvincing.

He was beating himself up over what he had done to her, and the rest of them, and for everything he had put them through when they had tried to stop his rampage.

"This wasn't your fault, Nick," she tried again, and he finally looked over at her, anguish clearly written on his face.

"Still, Juliette, I'm so sorry…I don't know how to ever make this up to you."

Suddenly, Juliette wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as possible, to reassure him that everything was ok, to let him know that she was just happy he was alive and back and safe, and that she wasn't scared of him. And she realized in that same moment, that's what Nick really needed right now, too. He needed her reassurance that she still loved him and that she forgave him and that he really was _okay_ after this whole ordeal.

"How about this?" she said quietly, slowly climbing into his lap, leaning in to leave another long kiss on his lips.

Nick looked up at her in surprise as she pulled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and searching her face for answers. "I thought you said I needed to rest."

She smiled down at him, running her hands underneath the hem of his shirt and up to his chest, pulling it off over his head and tossing it to the floor. "We'll just have to take it slow."

Nick nodded fervently as he pulled her back to him, close against his body, kissing her deeply again.

"I'm feeling better already."

* * *

"Nick, where are you?" Juliette muttered anxiously to herself as she checked her watch for at least the tenth time since Nick had left to deal with Monroe and the Bauerschwein feud. He had reassured her that he had a plan, but that did little to ease her fears as she thought back to their earlier conversation, when Nick had gone pale and cold again, with no realization that it had even happened. The whole situation was gnawing uncomfortably at her nerves.

Something still wasn't right with Nick.

There was still the fact that she had really, truly, thought he was dead just days ago, he had seemed so pale and lifeless. Juliette still couldn't get the images of him just laying there like that out of her head, and unbeknownst to Nick, she had woken up several times every night since then just to check his pulse and breathing to reassure herself that he was _alive_. Then it had happened again when he had discovered he had been the cause of the giant mark across her face, although this time he had come out of it more quickly. And even though the doctor had told Nick that he was fine and seemed to be in incredible shape at his recent examination, it really didn't make Juliette feel any better.

After all, Nick had, for lack of a better description, gone frightening pale and grey _again_ just hours ago in the living room, during the same conversation in which he had told Juliette he might have to kill Chef Ostler as a means to an end, his emotions running high as he worried about how to protect Monroe. He hadn't even responded when she called his name or grabbed his arm (a little too much like the night she had thought he was dead), and when he had come out of it or _whatever_ was happening to him, he had blown her off as if it was no big deal, storming off into the night to deal with Ostler and Monroe.

She hadn't heard from him since then, and even though she was a typically calm and rational person, she couldn't control the rising anxiety coursing through her at every minute he didn't come home.

What if the side effects from his time as a zombie were more serious than any of them had really thought?

Juliette was startled out of her deep thoughts a moment later as she heard the lock click in the front door, and she quickly set down her tea on the kitchen counter and moved into the living room. She found a tired and slightly worse for wear Nick coming through the front door. He hung up his coat by the door, sighing as he turned to face her, a cut over his eyebrow and a growing bruise forming along his jawline.

Juliette took a deep breath to steady herself, not wanting to hover or be too overly concerned, knowing that it might just push him further away. She raised her eyebrows at his appearance, half in amusement and concern. "What happened to you?"

"This," Nick smiled tiredly as he pointed as his face, "is compliments of Monroe."

Juliette looked at him in confusion. "Monroe? Really?"

"It was part of our plan to take down Ostler," Nick explained as he walked into the room, stopping right in front of her. "We had to make it look like he was a real threat and that I had to take him down, in order to get Ostler to confess to killing those Blutbaden."

"So it worked? He confessed?" Juliette asked, silently relieved that Nick had arrested the chef and not resorted to killing him.

Nick nodded at her, his smile quickly fading as a dark look crossed his face. "Yea, he's in custody now. He won't be hurting any more Blutbaden. But after what he's done, what he tried to do to Monroe…"

"Well, I think you did…" Juliette began, pausing suddenly as Nick froze, seemingly in suspended animation as his skin became frighteningly pale and cold once again.

Juliette drew in a sharp intake of breath at his appearance. "Nick?" she tried quietly, reaching for his arm and shaking him gently, getting no response. He stood there, head slightly bowed and seemingly staring at nothing, oblivious that she was right in front of him. It was happening _again_.

"Nick!" she demanded more urgently, gripping both of his arms tightly in an effort to bring him back to present. Nick didn't respond, but slowly looked back up at her. Juliette's heart nearly stopped when she saw that Nick's eyes were now blood red.

"Oh my God," she breathed, jumping backwards involuntarily at the sight and quickly dropping her grip on his arms. He just stared at her, with those lifeless red eyes, and Juliette feared he was about to attack her again, memories of an out-of-control Nick in that barn flooding her mind. She slowly began backing away, racking her brain desperately for where she had left her cell phone and looking around frantically for it.

"Juliette, what's wrong?" Nick's voice suddenly reached her, and she gasped, looking back at him in astonishment. His skin was back to normal color, the crimson red now gone from his eyes. He was looking at her in confusion as they stood in the middle of the living room, trying to figure out why she was backing away from him in terror.

When she didn't immediately respond, Nick stepped towards her, brow furrowed in concern. "Juliette, are you alright? What is it?"

Juliette shook her head to clear her scattered thoughts, trying not to let the sudden fear and concern for him show on her face and failing miserably. "You," she began slowly, not wanting him to alarm him when she told him what she had just seen.

"Me?" Nick gave her a perplexed look. "What about me?"

"It happened again," Juliette told him seriously, slowly reaching out to grab his wrist and thankful to find it warm and his pulse beating strongly against her fingertips. "You went pale and cold and you couldn't hear me…"

Nick shook his head, a slightly irritated look crossing his face as he brushed off her concern, pulling out of her grasp and moving towards the kitchen. "Juliette, I told you I feel fine. The doctor even said I was in perfect health."

"Nick," Juliette cut in, knowing she had to get him to listen to her, "it's your eyes."

Nick paused at the concern in her voice, turning back to her. "My eyes?"

"They were red," she told him, worry evident in her tone, "like when you were…infected, before."

"What?" Nick came closer to her, listening to her now, and she could see that he was doing his best not to panic at her words. "Are you sure?"

"Yea," she nodded, biting her lower lip. "You looked just like you did when we found you, in that family's barn."

Nick ran a hand haphazardly through his hair, looking at her in alarm. "Did I try to hurt you?" he asked fearfully, apology written all over his face.

"No, no," Juliette reassured him quickly, stepping forwards to squeeze both of his hands now. "Not at all. But it was like you weren't there."

"What do we do?" he looked completely lost now, and she knew that he was desperately wanted to put this whole thing behind him, to forget about his lack of control and the violence and death he had caused.

"I think it's time we tell Rosalee and Monroe," Juliette suggested carefully, waiting for his reaction.

Nick shook his head vehemently at her suggestion. "No, Juliette, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Juliette questioned, looking at him skeptically. "Rosalee was the one that helped you before. She might be able to help you now. She's your best shot."

"Because I don't want to drag all of them into this again," Nick replied with a sigh, looking at her seriously. "I've already caused enough problems after I was…well, out of control. And Rosalee didn't even really know how to treat me, she was guessing, remember?"

"Well, she guessed right, or you wouldn't be here right now," Juliette countered, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded him. "She was the only one who even had an idea how to bring you out of that spell, or poison, whatever it was. Otherwise, you would have died."

"And more people would have gotten hurt than the ones that already were because of me," Nick shot back, pacing around the room now in clear agitation. "I don't want to be the cause of that again."

"Then why won't you let Rosalee help you?" Juliette asked him gently, furrowing her brows as she worriedly watched him move around the room.

Nick paused, turning to look back at her with a pained expression. "I already ask too much of her, and Monroe. Besides, what if she doesn't know…"

"…how to fix this?" Juliette finished his thought quietly, and then it suddenly all made sense. Why Nick had been so blasé about his condition, and continually blowing her off about it every time it happened.

He didn't _want_ to know if this was a permanent condition or not, and he was basically ignoring it, hoping it would just go away on its own, because if it didn't, if there was no way to stop it….

"Hey, come here," she urged him gently, and he reluctantly stepped forwards as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "We'll figure this out, I promise."

"What if this keeps happening?" he echoed his earlier fears to her, burying his face on her shoulder. "What if I lose control again? What if I try to hurt someone again…or you?"

"You won't," Juliette reassured him, even though she was internally afraid of that very thing herself. "Maybe this stuff is still working its way out of your system. If you don't want to tell Rosalee and the others about this right now, then fine. We'll wait it out a little longer. But Nick, if it gets worse…"

"Then we'll tell them," he replied reluctantly, his voice muffled on her shoulder. He pulled back to look at her, and she cupped his cheek gently.

"Everything will be ok, Nick. You're gonna be ok."

He smiled sadly at her. "I hope you're right."

* * *

"Ok, Hank, what is it?" Nick sighed, glancing over at his partner as they walked from the interrogation room where Jake had just identified the male Naiads that had tried to kill him and had killed his friend Dan.

Hank looked at him in concern, still trying to process what he had seen earlier. Nick had been underwater, trying to save Elly, for _far_ longer than should have been possible. Hank had been ready to dive in after him, convinced that his partner was drowning…and then he had reemerged from the water, still breathing and still alive.

Except he had looked _dead_.

Hank sighed, motioning to an empty interrogation room, and Nick followed him inside. He shut the door firmly, then turned around to regard Nick seriously.

"It's just, that earlier, when you were underwater," he began, putting a hand to his chin, "you were under for a long time, man. I thought you were drowning."

Nick shrugged at that, casually brushing off his concern. "Well I didn't. And as you can see, I'm fine now."

"That's just it," Hank shook his head in disagreement, "when you came out of the water with Elly…you didn't look fine."

"So I was a little pale, you said it yourself, I was under for a while," Nick replied offhandedly, "so of course I looked a little water logged."

"No, this was more than being a little water logged, Nick," Hank narrowed his eyes at him. "If you weren't moving, I would have thought you were dead. You really looked it."

He didn't miss the way Nick avoided his gaze at that, and Hank narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. "What's going on man? You feeling ok?"

"I feel fine Hank," Nick sighed in exasperation, looking back up at him. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"Seriously Nick, if something's going on, you can tell me," Hank urged him firmly, coming forwards to place a hand gently on Nick's shoulder. "Maybe I can help."

Nick shook his head, brushing off his shoulder and moving towards the metal table in the middle of the room. "I said I'm fine, Hank. Just drop it, ok?"

"Sorry, but you just don't get off that easy," Hank replied knowingly, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at his partner. "Listen, if you're still having some side effects…"

"I said I'm fine!" Nick suddenly bit out, and Hank quickly took a step back as Nick became that same eerie shade of grey again.

"Nick, just calm down," Hank tried to reassure him, but it was as if Nick couldn't even hear him now. Nick stalked towards the table in a rage, effectively picking up one of the metal chairs from the table and throwing it across the room with incredible force. It made a deafening crack as it collided with the wall, leaving a dent as it effectively broke into several pieces.

"Whoa," Hank breathed in disbelief, wheeling to look back at Nick in shock. He froze when he saw the blood red color filling Nick's eyes now, and he hated himself for instinctively reaching for his gun.

"Nick man, it's me," Hank said gently, one hand raised in a placating gesture and the other hovering on the handle of his gun. "Nick, listen to me."

Nick suddenly shook his head, his skin returning to normal color and the red fading from his eyes. He looked up at Hank in confusion when he saw the chair in pieces in the corner and Hank reaching for his gun. "Uh, what just happened?"

Hank sighed in relief that Nick was back, quickly holstering his gun and moving closer to him. "I don't know. But whatever just happened, it wasn't good."

"Did I just do that?" Nick asked in genuine surprise as he spotted the shattered chair across the room.

"Yea, and you went grey again, and your eyes were that ugly red. It was like you didn't know I was here."

"Oh God," Nick breathed in disbelief, placing his head in his hands, "what's happening to me?"

"Everything ok in here?" Captain Renard's voice suddenly made both of them jump as he came into the room. Of course there was no way that the entire precinct hadn't heard the commotion.

Nick looked up, quickly glancing between Hank and Renard, before nodding his head stiffly. "Yea, everything's fine. Just a little misunderstanding. But, uh, sorry, I really have to go." With that, he moved from the room, brushing past Hank and Renard before they could even try to stop him.

Hank looked up at his Captain with worried eyes, noting the quizzical look on Renard's face as well.

"Do we have a problem here?" Renard asked again, looking directly at Hank.

Hank shrugged, letting out a long sigh. "I'm not sure. But I'm going to find out."

* * *

"Hey Juliette, can I talk to you for a second?" Hank said quietly as they moved to take their plates to the kitchen, as Monroe, Nick, and Rosalee stayed in Monroe's living room to discuss what else could have killed the two mini-mart thugs since Ray Bolton's dogs hadn't tested positive for their DNA.

"Yea, sure," she smiled at him, setting her plate in the sink and turning on the warm water to start washing them. "What's up?"

"It's just," Hank hesitated, looking unsure, "has Nick been…feeling ok? Since the zombie incident?"

Juliette froze at his words, nearly dropping the plate she was washing, and Hank didn't miss her reaction. She set it down before she broke it, and turned slowly to face him, concern evident on her face. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Yea, no, I don't know," Hank sighed, shaking his head. "Kind of. Nothing serious. It's just…"

"Hank, just tell me," Juliette urged him, shutting off the water and moving closer to him, dropping her voice so that the others wouldn't overhear from the living room.

"It was like he was reverting back, or something," he replied quietly with a deep sigh. "The other night, at the docks, when he rescued that girl, he was under water for a _long_ time. Way too long for any normal human. And when he came back up…"

"He looked dead, didn't he," Juliette cut in, telling more than asking.

Hank raised an eyebrow. "Yea, how did you know?"

"Because it's happened at home too," she looked at him worriedly. "I even called 911 because one night, because I really thought he was dead…"

"Seriously?" Hank looked back at her in concern. "He hasn't said a thing about it."

"Yea, he's being stubborn," Juliette sighed, shaking her head. "He doesn't want anyone to know. I think he's afraid that this is permanent, but we really don't know what's going to happen. It could just be working its way out of his system after what he's gone through."

"Well I think it might be getting worse," Hank muttered, pinching his nose between his fingers in aggravation. "And of course, Nick is being a martyr about it."

"What do you mean it's getting worse?" Juliette asked in alarm, grabbing his arm, and quickly glancing back at the living room once she realized she had unconsciously raised her voice. Nick and Monroe had their heads bowed together, intently studying the crime scene pictures, while Rosalee scooped more helpings onto each of their plates. They were oblivious to the intense conversation occurring in the kitchen.

"He also sort of lost control the other night, at the precinct," Hank replied grimly. "It was like he didn't even know I was there, and his eyes were red again, and he broke a metal chair like it was made out of chopsticks. But then he came out of it, and it was like he didn't even know what had happened. Just like after we rescued him before, and he didn't remember the bar fight or attacking us or anything."

He raised his eyebrows in concern as Juliette gasped. "What? What is it?"

"That happened twice on the night you guys took down that chef," Juliette ran a hand anxiously through her hair. "He didn't try to attack me, or anything, but for a minute, I thought he was going to." She paused, biting her lower lip. "The second time, his eyes were red again, and he was so pale…and when he came to, he didn't remember that, either."

"Do Monroe and Rosalee know about this?" Hank asked in concern, sounding like he already knew the answer.

Juliette sighed, shaking her head. "No, I don't think so. I don't think it's happened around them, and Nick asked me not to tell them yet, so I haven't."

"Sounds like Nick," Hank looked at her knowingly. "Not wanting to cause more trouble, but in the end, it just ends up being a whole lot worse."

He paused, looking at Juliette with determination. "Well, we need to override Nick on this one. I think it's time we told them what's going on."

Juliette nodded in agreement, glancing back out at the living room at her friends. Monroe and Rosalee were sitting on each side of Nick now. She knew they cared for him as much as she did, and that they would be willing to help him, always had been. She turned back to Hank.

"Ok. Let's tell them."

* * *

"Hey Juliette," Rosalee greeted warmly as she entered the Spice Shop. "I'm glad you stopped by."

"Hey Rosalee," Juliette greeted in return as she walked up to the counter, plastering a smile on her tired face. "Are you busy?"

Rosalee shook her head. "No, the shop's been slow today." She came around from behind the counter, frowning when she noticed how tense Juliette was. "Why? What's going on?"

"I need to talk to you," Juliette said quietly, stepping closer to her friend in concern.

"Of course," Rosalee reassured her. "About what?"

"About Nick."

Rosalee looked back at Juliette in surprise. "About Nick? Is everything ok?"

"I'm not sure," Juliette sighed, looking more and more distraught.

"Ok, whatever it is, we'll figure out," Rosalee gently steered her towards the back room and shut the door to give them more privacy. Once the door was securely shut, she turned back to Juliette. "What's wrong?"

"Ever since he was under that zombie spell, or whatever," Juliette sighed, shaking her head, "he's been having side effects."

Rosalee's eyes widened at her words, and she gently laid a hand on her arm. "Side effects? Like what?"

"I don't really know how to explain it," Juliette replied, looking slightly lost, "but he's been intermittently going pale and cold again, and a couple of times his eyes have turned red…"

"Wait, Juliette," Rosalee stopped her, squeezing her arm, "is it like he's turning back into a zombie again?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure," she bit her lip, shaking her head in defeat. "But it's happened more than once, and Hank has seen it, too."  
"Has he ever turned aggressive? Or lost control again, like how he was before?" Rosalee asked, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Not with me," Juliette shook her head quickly, "but I was talking to him and it was like he didn't know I was there. But with Hank, he threw a metal chair and broke it…and he didn't even know he was doing it."

"Really? How long has this been going on?" Rosalee asked her worriedly, her eyes widening in concern.

She looked back up at Rosalee in a mixture of fear and desperation. "Since the night we got him back. Nick didn't want to tell you and Monroe, because he was hoping it would just go away, and if you can't fix it…I don't think he really _wanted_ to know." She paused, imploring Rosalee for help. "But can you? Can you undo whatever's been done to him?"

"I," Rosalee began, hesitating as she thought of the words, "I don't really know. I mean, we knew he might react differently to the Cracher-Mortel's poison because of what he is, and it sounds like he is _still_ reacting differently."

"So could this whole thing just be starting over again?" Juliette's eyes widened, and she tried desperately to push down the panic rising up inside her. "That is exactly what Nick has been afraid of."

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Rosalee sighed, looking at her seriously. "But whatever this is, we are in this together." She reached over to squeeze Juliette's hand firmly, which she gratefully accepted. "I promise, if there's a way to help Nick, we'll find it."

"Thank you," Juliette mustered up a more genuine smile, before pulling Rosalee into a firm hug. "You guys are such good friends. I don't think I thank you enough, for taking care of him."

"Hey, Nick takes care of us too," Rosalee smiled as she pulled back from her embrace. "That's what we do, take care of each other."

"Hey Rosalee, I just picked up the next shipment of…" Monroe burst into the back room just then, eyes widening slightly in surprise to see Juliette and Rosalee hugging each other tightly. "Oh, sorry. Hey Juliette."

He paused, not missing the unsung tension in the room as he looked at them, and let out a long sigh. "Ok. What's going on?"

Rosalee gave Monroe a grave look.

"It's Nick."

* * *

"There's nothing about this in any of my books," Rosalee sighed in frustration, slamming shut the book she had laid out on the spice shop counter.

"Yea, well I doubt this has ever happened before," Monroe replied, shaking his head in dejection as he closed the book he was perusing as well. "I mean, it's rare enough to find a Grimm, but to find a Grimm that's been affected by a Cracher-Mortel? Nick has to be the only one."

"So what do we do?" Juliette asked in concern, setting down a stack of books on the counter. She hadn't had any luck either in their desperate search for a way to help Nick.

"I don't know," Rosalee shook her head, "but there has to be a way."

"Could we give him another injection of the antidote?" Monroe suggested hopefully, looking back and forth between her and Juliette.

Rosalee sighed, shaking her head. "No. We can only give it to him in the violent, aggressive end-stage, remember? Otherwise it could kill him."

"You gave it to him when he was unconscious here at the shop, though," Juliette reminded her gently. "It didn't hurt him then."

"It was still fresh in his system then, and besides, I honestly didn't know what else to do," Rosalee told her, laying a hand gently on her shoulder, "and I was afraid if I didn't do at least that…"

"Then we would lose him anyway," Juliette nodded in understanding, her shoulders slumping slightly at this knowledge.

"So what do we do then?" Monroe asked in concern as he looked over at them. "Just wait until he goes into another Grimm-rage and then hope we can hold him down long enough to give it to him again?"

Rosalee let out a long breath, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe. I don't know. It might not even do him any good. Besides, do we really want to wait for him to get to the point of being out of control again before we do something about it?"

"Not if there's another way to treat him first," Juliette added, a new note of determination in her voice. "We have to keep trying."

Rosalee opened her mouth to reply when the sudden ringing of Juliette's cell phone jolted them all from their troubled thoughts. She hurriedly pulled out her phone and checked the caller ID.

"It's Hank," she frowned, quickly hitting the button and putting the phone to her ear. "Hey Hank, I'm at the shop with Monroe and Rosalee." Pause. "No, no luck yet. We're still looking." Pause. "What, at work? Oh no, what happened?" Pause. "Ok. Ok, good. See you soon."

She hung up and looked up to see Monroe and Rosalee's concerned gazes trained on her. "Hank said Nick lost control on a crime scene today and _it_ happened again."

"Oh God," Monroe's eyes widened at this. "Did he do anything? Attack anybody?"

"No," Juliette shook her head quickly, "but he did break down a door off its hinges, and had no idea that he had done it. Hank said luckily no one else saw it happen, but it was close." She sighed, running a hand nervously through her auburn locks. "Hank's on his way here now, to see if he can help."

"And Nick still doesn't know that you told us about this?" Rosalee asked gently.

Juliette bit her lower lip. "No, he doesn't. And I hate going behind his back like this…"

"Hey, Juliette," Monroe shook his head quickly, "you did the right thing. You're just worried about him and want to help. We all do."

"Exactly," Rosalee chimed in firmly. "Sometimes, Nick doesn't know what's best for him."

"Thanks guys," Juliette smiled gratefully at both of them, glad that she wasn't alone in this.

With friends like these, there _had_ to be a way to help Nick.

* * *

"Damn," Hank muttered after they had filled him in on everything. "There isn't going to be an easy fix to this, is there?"

"Unfortunately, it doesn't look like it," Monroe sighed, placing a hand to his chin. "But there has to be something we can do."

"Yea, we just don't know what that is yet," Rosalee added, closing yet another book. "I've made some calls, but this is something so rare, no one knows what to do for it."  
"Not to mention," Monroe looked at them knowingly, "when we bring up wanting to help a Grimm, most Wesen suddenly get all clammed up. Doesn't make this easy."

"Nothing about this is easy," Juliette shook her head in frustration. "Is there nothing that modern medicine could do for him? I mean, the doctor said he was in perfect shape, but maybe there's something they could give him?"

"I don't think so," Rosalee frowned, looking at Juliette apologetically. "I don't think there's anything a doctor could give Nick to counteract a supernatural poison like this."

Juliette sighed in dejection, nodding slowly. "Yea, I know. It was worth a try."

The four friends sat in silence for a long moment, contemplating how to best help Nick, when the ringing of Monroe's cell phone startled them all. Monroe's eyes widened when he saw who was calling.

"It's Nick."

"Oh yea," Hank shook his head, "he said he was going to call you about a new case we just got. Something about alligator people in the sewer." He shrugged off the strange looks they all gave him. "But that's not important right now. He doesn't know Juliette and I are here, or that we told you what's going on."

"Well, do you want me to answer it?" Monroe gestured urgently at the still-ringing phone.

"Yes," Juliette told him, "he should know what's going on. I don't want to keep this from him."

"Juliette, he won't like it if we confront him with this," Hank cautioned. "He's already been really cagey about this whole thing, brushing it off like it's no big deal. How do you think he'll react when he sees all of us here, talking about him behind his back?"

"He's going to hate it, I know," Juliette sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead at the sudden ache that was starting at her temples, "but I'm not keeping this from him. He needs to know that we're on his side, that we're just trying to help him."

"She's right," Rosalee added. "He might not like that we've all teamed up without his knowledge, but he has to know it's coming from a good place."

"Ok," Hank sighed, gesturing at Monroe. "Answer it."

Monroe nodded and hastily answered his phone on the last ring. "Hey Nick. Yea I'm at the shop. Why don't you stop by?"

* * *

"Monroe! You here?" they heard Nick call out as he entered the front of the spice shop, and the four friends looked at each other for reassurance. Rosalee nodded at Monroe in confirmation.

"Back here man!" Monroe called out, and they all waited with baited breath for Nick to enter the back room.

"Hey Monroe, have you ever heard of…" Nick opened the door to the back room, and then froze when he saw them all there, staring back at him with love and concern in their eyes.

"Uh, Juliette, Hank, what are you guys doing here?" he asked in confusion, looking at them all questioningly.

"Well," Juliette began slowly when no one else said anything, "we came over to talk to Monroe and Rosalee." She walked towards him, mustering up a smile and reaching for his hand.

"Talk to them about what?" Nick didn't look convinced at all, looking at them all warily.

"What, they can't stop by just to talk to us?" Monroe added a little too hastily, and Rosalee nudged him gently in the side, giving him a warning look.

"We actually wanted to talk to you too," Hank added quickly, stepping closer to Nick as well.

"Wait a second," Nick narrowed his eyes at them in suspicion, involuntarily taking a small step backwards. "What's going on here?"

"We're just worried about you, Nick," Rosalee said soothingly, coming forwards to lay a hand gently on his arm. "We want to help."

Nick turned to look accusingly at Juliette and Hank. "You told them." His voice was suddenly icy cold and angry. He pulled back from them, backing away even further a few steps and clenching his jaw. "I said I was fine."

"I'm sorry, Nick," Juliette protested firmly, shaking her head, "but you're _not_ fine. Far from it."

"Yea man, this whole thing is getting worse and you know it," Hank added, giving him a knowing look. "Look what happened today at that crime scene. You can't deny it."

"So what, you guys thought you'd all get together behind my back and decide what to do about me?" Nick replied with a note of betrayal evident in his tone.

"I can see why that might be upsetting," Monroe tried to placate him, "but dude, you weren't even going to tell us about it. We just want to help." He paused, looking at Nick in concern. "We're worried about you."

"Well don't be," Nick said coolly, shrugging off their concern once again. "Everything is fine, really. I don't need you guys to worry about me, or to do it without my knowledge for that matter."

"Nick, listen to yourself," Juliette frowned at his reaction, "We want to help you, and we weren't trying to hide it from you." She sighed, looking at him sadly. "But you weren't going to accept help willingly on your own. We can figure this out together."

"Yea man, we're on your side here," Monroe added quickly.

"I'll be fine!" Nick replied angrily, his whole body trembling now with barely suppressed emotion.

"Nick, you have to calm down," Hank stepped in then, "before…"

Hank couldn't even finish his sentence as they all stopped in shock at Nick's rapidly changing appearance. He was frozen in place as his skin became pale and colorless, his eyes taking on that sickening red tint once again.

"Oh my God," Monroe whispered, looking at the rest of them in astonishment. "Is that what's been happening to him?"

"Yea," Hank nodded grimly in confirmation, "and it's only been getting worse."

"It is like he's reverting," Rosalee muttered to herself, taking a step towards Nick in utter fascination.

"Rosalee, wait!" Hank called out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. Before any of them could even react to what was happening, Nick lunged forwards angrily, in full zombie-mode once again.

"Nick!" Juliette cried, diving out of the way to one side with Hank, while Monroe and Rosalee dodged to the other.

But the crazed Grimm didn't recognize them, as he tore past them in a rage towards one of the spice shelves against the wall, smashing into it in a wild fury and then throwing the shelf to the floor of the shop as if it was weightless.

"Stand back!" Hank ordered, and he nodded at Monroe. "You wanna try to take him again?"

"Because that worked so well last time," Monroe looked at him in disbelief. Hank sighed in defeat, before reluctantly pulling out his gun.

"Damn it Nick, don't make me do this," he muttered, slowly raising his gun as Nick turned his blood-red eyes back on them, now finished with destroying the shelf. "Please don't."

"Hank!" Juliette cried out in alarm, hoping he wouldn't actually use it, "stop!"

"I promise I won't use it if I don't have to!" Hank called back over his shoulder to try and reassure her.

Nick took a step towards them, and looked as though he was about to attack again, and they all braced themselves for the oncoming onslaught.

Suddenly, he stopped, taking a step back and shaking his head slightly. His skin slowly returned to its normal pigment and his eyes returned to normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had even happened.

He looked up at them then, blinking in confusion as they came into focus, noting the terrified looks on their faces and the fact that Hank still had a gun aimed at him.

"Uh, Hank?" he asked in confusion and worry, noting the terrified and disbelieving way that they were all looking at him. "What…?"

"Sorry," Hank breathed out a sigh of relief, lowering his gun and returning it to the holster.

"Oh man," Monroe let out a deep breath, surprise evident on his face as he looked at Nick. "You really don't even know what just happened, do you?"

Nick shook his head again, before finally noticing the destroyed shelf and broken spice bottles littered all over the ground behind him. He swallowed thickly, freezing for a moment as he realized what happened. He turned back to them with wide eyes.

"It happened again…didn't it?"

"Yea," Rosalee smiled grimly at him. "But now we know what's been happening to you, what Hank and Juliette have been seeing."

"Except it was a little worse this time," Hank shook his head as he took in the mess in the shop.

"Rosalee, I'm so sorry," Nick looked at her remorsefully. "I completely destroyed your shop."

She shrugged at him, quickly reassuring him. "Don't worry about it. It's fine. Could have been a lot worse."

"Did I try to attack you? Did I hurt any of you?" Nick's voice rose in panic now as he stepped closer to the group, scanning them all up and down with worried eyes. "You guys, I'm so sorry. I just…I don't know what's happening to me…"

"We're fine," Juliette stepped forwards then to pull him into a tight embrace even as he balked at her touch, no doubt afraid he might hurt her again. "You didn't hurt anyone."

"Yea, just the shelf," Monroe raised an eyebrow at him.

"But next time, it won't just be a shelf," Nick looked back at him miserably. "This is getting progressively worse. Next time, it could be one of you."

"That's why we are all here," Rosalee came to stand next to Monroe, holding Nick's gaze firmly. "To figure out a way to fix this."

"And what if we can't?" Nick shoulders slumped in defeat then, his whole body trembling slightly now as he sagged against Juliette. "What if there isn't any way to cure this? To cure me?"

"We'll find a way Nick," Rosalee tried to reassure him, her voice filled with the same determination and desperation that they were all feeling. "We have to."

END PART 1

* * *

_To quote the show writers...this ain't over yet. _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

**So sorry this took so long! I can only blame my perfectionism on this one, so I hope it's worth the wait. **

**This is the second (and final) part of this two-shot to address the Zombie!Nick storyline, since the show sorta left us hanging on that one. I tried to keep it as close to canon as I could while still giving a plausible explanation about why these zombie-spells just went away (you're welcome Grimm writers) halfway through the season. However, I had to tweak a few things obviously, such as the timeline of when Renard gets back from Europe and the events of Cold-Blooded and the alligator people to make this work. Hope you all like my twist on it! **

**I had some fun with the antidote and some other medical things (nothing more than the show would do), as well as some poorly used German, so use your imagination a little on those parts. **

**Just a reminder for possible trigger warning on this one: suicidal themes ahead. Not sure it's serious enough for a trigger but just in case that's a touchy subject for anyone…beware of some dark times ahead. **

**And thank you thank you for all the lovely reviews and follows! I do re-read reviews sometimes to get myself back on track when I'm losing motivation, so just know that each and **_**every**_** one is read and appreciated (including you guest reviewers that I can't thank via PM, now that I know what that is). Haha. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. NBC (damn it). **

**Again, this prompt was for the wonderful Lostinarwop who wanted to see something more done with this storyline, and thanks so much for your request! I hope this is what you were looking for! This one's for you. Enjoy!**

**Fictional**

* * *

_The one where Nick's post-zombie effects are more serious than any of them thought._

* * *

PART 2

"Nick, you don't have to do this," Hank tried again, but Nick shook his head firmly in disagreement.

"Yea I do, Hank. Put them on."

"Dude, seriously, it's ok," Monroe attempted then, stepping closer to him and frowning slightly at his friend. "You really don't have to."

Nick just sighed, throwing him a sideways glance before turning back to Hank and holding out his hands. "Just do it."

"Ok," Hank muttered, reaching forward reluctantly and placing his handcuffs securely around Nick's wrists. "There, they're on."

"Good," Nick nodded tersely at him, staring absently at his bound wrists with a deep frown. "At least this way, it won't be as easy for me to attack you." He motioned with his head at a nearby exposed metal pipe along the back wall of Rosalee's shop. "Put me over there."

"You really want me to chain you up like some sort of criminal?" Hank looked at him skeptically. "I don't see how this is going to be helpful, Nick."

"Might keep me from killing someone else, or one of you," he replied bitterly as he looked back up at both of them. "Please, Hank, just do it."

"Fine," Hank sighed in defeat, walking Nick over to the pipe and securely arranging the handcuffs so that his hands were bound around either side of the sturdy metal. "But honestly, I don't know if this would hold you anyways if you went into a full Grimm-rage again."  
Monroe scoffed at that, shaking his head. "No kidding. I don't know what could hold you if an airplane couldn't."

"You guys aren't helping," Nick narrowed his eyes at both of them.

"Yea, sorry," Monroe apologized quickly, Hank nodding in agreement. "We just want you to know you don't have to be locked up like some sort of…monster."

Nick shook his head sadly. "Until Rosalee figures out a way to cure me Monroe, this is how it has to be." He regarded them both seriously. "I already killed someone…and I _won't_ hurt anyone else, especially someone I care about. I'll do whatever it takes."

Hank and Monroe just looked at each other, before nodding silently at his words. Finally Hank sighed, looking unsure. "Ok then. Just don't do something stupid."

Monroe was barely able to contain a snort at that as he glanced back over at Hank. "You know this is Nick we're talking about, right?"

"I'm standing right here," Nick shot them another dark and unamused look.

"And you elected to have yourself chained up here, so now you have to listen to anything we say," Hank cocked an eyebrow at him in response.

His attempt at levity fell flat as Nick just turned away from them to stare absently at the brick wall behind him.

"You both know why I'm doing this."

Hank's face fell at this as he shared another serious look with Monroe, letting out a long sigh. "Yea, we do." After a long pause, he added, "I'll go check on Juliette and Rosalee and see how the antidote is coming along."

"I'll just stay here, and uh," Monroe fumbled slightly as Hank moved away, "stay with Nick."

"Right," Hank nodded, as he left the room to return to the front of the shop where Juliette and Rosalee were remaking the Cracher-Mortel antidote, just in case Nick had another episode and they actually had the chance to use it on him.

Monroe turned his attention back to Nick, who was standing stiffly with his shoulders hunched awkwardly from the way he was bound to the metal pipe. He was still turned away from Monroe, intently studying the brick wall behind him.

"So," he attempted casually to get his attention. Nick slowly turned to look back at him with a pained and exhausted look on his face.

"So."

Monroe sighed, furrowing his brows as he took in Nick's haggard appearance. "I know we've already told you this, and I don't think I need to say it again, but I'm going to anyways…we don't blame you for this, man."

Nick scoffed hollowly at that. "Really? Because when _this_ happened just a little bit ago, you were all looking at me like I was some sort of monster." He shook his head in defeat. "Not that I blame you for it."

Monroe felt a pang of guilt at that, and he stepped forwards to lay a hand on the Grimm's shoulder, not missing how he tensed slightly at his touch.

"Nick, it wasn't intentional. We were more shocked than anything. It was just so out of nowhere, we weren't expecting that to happen."

"Which is why this is so dangerous," Nick responded with a sense of urgency. "This could happen at any time, and what's worse is I don't even know its happening. I can't stop it." He turned away from Monroe, rattling the handcuffs slightly against the pipe as reassurance that he was securely restrained. "It's safer to keep me locked up."

The tone of his voice was so defeated and full of guilt that Monroe couldn't help himself from squeezing his shoulder tightly again.

"Nick," he looked at him knowingly, "look, I get it. If any of us can relate to what it's like to lose control and give in to the monster within…" he gestured vaguely at himself, trailing off with a shrug. "So no matter what happens, whether you know it's happening or not, whether you are in _control_ or not…I'm on your side. Just remember that."

Nick looked at him for a long moment without replying, letting his words sink in. He finally mustered up a genuine half-smile, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Thanks Monroe."

Monroe quirked a smile at him in return, giving a short nod in his direction.

Just then, Rosalee and Juliette entered the back room, with Hank trailing slowly behind them. Rosalee was delicately holding the three-pronged Piqure-Gigantesque in her hands, now reloaded with the antidote.

"Man, I hope we don't have to use that thing on you again," Monroe muttered at the sight of the three massive needles, looking sympathetically back over at Nick.

Nick just sighed wearily. "You will if it's the only thing that will work. Do what you have to do." He turned to look at Rosalee as she approached. "Can you give it to me now?" he questioned, unable to contain the hopefulness in his voice. "Would that stop this?"

"We can only use it on you if you go into a rage again," Rosalee explained as she carefully set down the tool on a nearby table. "And truthfully, I don't know if it will stop this or not, but it's the only thing I can think of right now to try."

"No, I don't want to wait until I lose control again," Nick shook his head firmly, giving them a serious look. "We can't take the chance that I might hurt one of you in the process."

Rosalee smiled sadly at him. "I know Nick, but if we gave it to you now, it could kill you. You have to be back in that aggressive stage again for this to work safely."

"Well, that's a chance I'm willing to take," he replied without hesitation. "It's not worth it for one of you to get hurt, or killed, because of me."

"Dude, if you do that, you could die," Monroe gave him a quizzical look, frowning deeply at his words. "_That's_ not worth it."

"Exactly," Juliette added in concern. "We can't take the chance that this would kill you either. If you lose control again, we'll just be ready."

"Exactly," Hank chimed in. "Next time this happens, we'll be prepared and we'll give you the antidote. We got this."

Nick avoided their intense gazes, studying at his handcuffed wrists again as if he didn't quite believe it himself that it was actually necessary. "Look, I'm sorry. You know that I would never hurt any of you…"

"We know that, Nick," Juliette reassured him softly, walking over and gently cupping his face in her hands. He flinched, trying to back away from her from fear of his own lack of self-control, but he had nowhere to go by being restrained to the pipe. Juliette held her ground, refusing to back away. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"This was done to you, by the Captain's brother," Monroe added with a tone of disgust, clenching his jaw. "You didn't choose for this to happen."

"Speaking of, should we let the Captain know what's going on?" Hank questioned then, looking at the rest of the group.

"No," Nick quickly shook his head. "The less people involved in this, the better. Besides, he's still in Europe."

"If we could get a hold of him though, could he help?" Juliette wondered to the rest of them. "Would he know more about this type of thing?"

Rosalee shrugged. "I guess he could. But he was raised pretty separate from the rest of the Royal family, I don't know what kind of information he would have that we don't."

"He does have some pretty important connections though, and he did help us get you back when this whole thing started," Monroe mused, looking over at Nick. "So can we trust him?"

Nick frowned deeply at that. "Doesn't matter because there's no way to reach him right now anyways while he's in Vienna. Besides, I don't want anyone else involved in this. It's bad enough that you guys are."

"Like we would be anywhere else," Hank scoffed at that. "We're on your side, man. You seem to keep forgetting that."

Nick quirked another faint smile at that, leaning heavily against the pipe he was handcuffed to. "Yea, I know. Thank you, all of you. Seriously."

"Of course," Rosalee smiled sincerely at him. "That's what we're here for."

"To bail you out of trouble, as usual," Monroe smirked at him, and Nick let out a short laugh at that, almost sounding like his normal self again.

Suddenly, Hank's phone rank, and he sighed as he fished it out of his back pocket and answered it. "Griffin."

His conversation was short and to the point, before he finally hung up and looked at the group apologetically. "I'm sorry guys, that was the precinct." He glanced over at Nick. "Another victim, a city worker, and likely by our suspects. I have to go."

"Hank," Nick began, "I can't go with you, not like this." He motioned at his handcuffed wrists. "I don't want to lose control again on a case."

"Me either," Hank sighed deeply, hands on his hips. "What do you want me to do?"

"Hank, you can't take these guys on by yourself," Nick replied in concern. "You won't be able to see what you're up against. And these Wesen are incredibly strong."

"Well I can't just wait on the sidelines and let these guys get away with murder," Hank protested. "I'll have to do this one without you."

"And you'll get yourself killed," Nick shook his head in irritation. "You can't go."

"Nick, I have to do my job," Hank crossed his arms over his chest, looking at him seriously. "You know, if there's a way to get a hold of the Captain, I think we should tell him what's going on. Even if he doesn't know how to help, at least he can cover for you until we figure this out."

"No, we're not telling him," Nick answered with gritted teeth. "There's no reason to get him involved in this right now."

"Maybe he's right, man," Monroe said with a sigh, looking at Nick skeptically and wondering why he was being so resistant on the issue. "I don't think we have anything to lose by it."

Nick shook his head in disagreement, breathing heavily now as he became more agitated. "No. Not yet."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" Hank finally snapped in exasperation, having had enough of Nick's stoicism. He was refusing help at every turn because of his fear of getting more people involved that might inadvertently get hurt, and Hank had had enough. "We're trying to help you here, man, just let us!"

"Well you can't!" Nick bit out suddenly in response, "There is no helping me!"

"Nick, uh, calm down," Monroe held up his hands in a placating gesture, but it was too late.

"What, before I lose control again?" Nick snapped back, eyes flashing angrily, and his skin started to fade and turn icy cold once again.

"Damn it," Hank swore at himself as he realized what he'd done, "I didn't mean to get him riled up again."

"Well, maybe it will be our chance to do this," Juliette replied quickly as she glanced at him back over at him.

"Ok then, get ready!" Rosalee called out to the group, rushing back towards the table to grab the injection tool.

"Stand back," Hank ordered the rest of them as Nick's eyes turned blood red, and he began struggling angrily against the handcuffs, growling inhumanly at them. Realizing that he was securely restrained, Nick fought even harder, putting his full strength into furiously trying to free himself. Their eyes all widened in surprise as the pipe began to creak and groan under the intensity of his struggle.

"Guys, look!" Juliette pointed out suddenly in concern. Nick was straining so hard against the handcuffs that the metal was cutting deep into his wrists and drawing blood, which was starting to drip down his arms and pool on the floor.

"Nick, please stop," Juliette attempted in vain to calm him before he further injured himself, but it was completely useless. His murderous red eyes flickered quickly over all of them as he continued to pull back the cuffs against the pipe with unbridled strength.

"C'mon man," Monroe added futilely, desperate to stop Nick before he really hurt himself, "look what you're doing to yourself!" But it had no affect on the angry Grimm, who seemed to have no awareness of the physical damage he was causing to his wrists and hands. He yanked back repeatedly on the pipe, cracks forming along the side of it now and spreading across the metal like spider webs.

"Damn it," Hank muttered, taking a cautious step closer to Nick's struggling form. "Rosalee, you ready with that thing?" he called back over his shoulder.

"Yup," she replied quickly, gripping the tool in her hands as she moved closer to Hank. "Ready."

"He's going to seriously injure himself if we don't set him loose," Hank sighed at them, pulling the handcuff key out of his pocket. He motioned to Monroe. "I'm going to uncuff him, but you need to help me hold him down long enough so that she can inject him."

"Yea, I'll try," Monroe replied in disbelief, knowing how that hadn't really worked before, but also knowing that they didn't really have another choice. "Let's do it…I guess."

"Ok, on the count of three," Hank instructed the others, bracing himself as he stopped just short of Nick's reach. "One, two…"

Before Hank could even finish, Nick pulled back suddenly with impressive force, effectively snapping the handcuffs in half and freeing himself from the pipe. Hank was completely unprepared for Nick to lunge forward and hit him with all of his strength across the face with a pale fist, sending him flying backwards to the floor and knocking him out cold.

Rosalee stumbled backwards as the force of Hank falling so suddenly caught her shoulder, causing her to drop the Piqure-Gigantesque from her hands. It went rolling across floor and out of reach, coming to a stop underneath the edge of the table nearby.

"Nick!" Juliette cried out, trying to catch his attention and draw it away from Hank and Rosalee. His blood red eyes focused on her then, and she swallowed thickly, taking a step back and bracing herself for his attack. Nick growled menacingly as his crimson eyes fell on her, taking a step in her direction.

"Nick, don't do it!" Monroe called over desperately as he rushed to pull Rosalee to her feet, hovering protectively next to Hank's unconscious form. "Stop!"

But Nick wasn't himself, wasn't _human_, and his pleas fell on deaf ears. Monroe knew he had to act quickly.

Hauling Rosalee abruptly to her feet, he lunged forwards just as Nick made a move for Juliette. He tackled him to the ground with the full force of his body weight as he simultaneously woged, but he was taken by surprise once again at how impressive Nick's reflexes were in this state.

They landed in a tumbled heap on the floor, rolling past Juliette's feet as she dived out of the way, limbs flailing everywhere. Nick was ready for his attack and rolled with the fall, landing on top and wrapping his icy cold fingers around Monroe's neck.

Monroe choked as he tried to draw in a breath of air, but Nick was incredibly strong like this, and he wasn't able to throw him off or writhe out of his grasp, no matter how hard he fought. Monroe continued to fight with everything he was worth, even as the word began to grey at the edges from lack of oxygen and fade away.

This was it. There was nothing he could do to stop the bloodthirsty Grimm.

* * *

And then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, Nick's skin returned to normal and the red slowly faded from his eyes. Monroe quickly pushed him off to the side and sat up, sucking in deep breaths of precious air between fits of painful coughing.

Nick landed on his knees next to Monroe, and looked around in confusion, blinking rapidly to clear his vision as he slowly climbed unsteadily back to his feet.

"…what?" he mumbled as he stood, squinting to bring them all back into focus. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene before him, and he took a hesitant step backwards, before swaying to the side and collapsing back to his knees on the floor.

"Nick!" Juliette cried out again, in concern this time, and rushed over to his side. She knelt down next to him as he braced himself on his hands and knees, barely keeping himself from face planting on the floor.

Juliette knelt in front of him, gently pushing him back upwards and cupping the sides of his face as she tried to get him to focus on her. "Nick, look at me." His eyes rolled around dazedly for a second before he was able to focus, still breathing heavily and looking entirely dazed. "Are you ok?"

Nick blinked heavily again, slowly becoming more aware of what was going on around him. "Yea…did it…happen again?" he asked fearfully as the world slowly came back to normal.

Juliette looked at him sadly, breathing out a sigh of relief that he was himself again. "Yea." She frowned as she reached forwards and grabbed one of his hands, examining the deep cuts on his wrists from the handcuffs. "Come on, let's get you upright."

She slowly helped him to his feet, trying not to be concerned with how heavily he was leaning on her for support. As soon as he was steady on his feet, he froze in shock when he saw Hank sprawled out on the ground, and Monroe coughing and gasping for air, with Rosalee worriedly checking over both of them.

"What did I do?" he breathed, looking at them all in rising panic. "What did I _do_ to them?"

"They're ok Nick," Rosalee tried to reassure him. "Monroe is catching his breath, and Hank's just knocked out, but he's starting to come back around." Monroe gave him a shaky thumbs-up in reassurance that he was ok, while slowly climbing back to his feet.

Just then, as if he heard them, Hank groaned as he slowly peered open his eyes. "Damn. What truck ran me over?" he muttered under his breath, blinking slowly as he looked up at them.

"Hank, are you alright?" Rosalee asked him as she and Monroe slowly helped him to his feet, the detective swaying slightly between them.

"Believe it or not, I've been worse," Hank grunted, looking over to meet Nick's pained expression. "Listen, Nick, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"No, you're not fine," Nick responded miserably, "nothing about this is fine. I could have killed you, Hank!" He turned to look at Monroe, who was rubbing his throat gingerly where Nick's finger prints were still clearly evident. "And you Monroe! I could have killed all of you!"

"Nick, please, you have to calm down," Juliette tried to reassure him, squeezing his arm gently.

"Doesn't matter, I'll just lose control again anyways," he shook his head in disgust. "It's dangerous for any of you to be around me." He strode away from the group, not even aware that blood was still steadily dripping from his injured wrists and coating his hands.

"Well, right now, you need our help," Rosalee said softly, looking at him with worried eyes. "We're not leaving you alone in this Nick."

"Exactly," Monroe cleared his throat, finally having caught his breath, and he raised his eyebrows in agreement as he met Nick's distraught gaze. "We're in this to the bitter end with you man."

"Not if I kill one of you first," Nick replied bitterly as he tightly clenched his fists, finally noticing that his wrists and hands were cut and bloodied. He raised his hands up in front of his face in surprise to inspect them more carefully, turning them over to examine his bleeding wrists.

"Come on, let's get you patched up," Juliette urged him gently, trying to lead him towards the counter of the spice shop. "Those look pretty deep."

Nick sighed and shook his head, pulling away from her. "I'm ok."

Juliette frowned at him. "Nick, those cuts need to be bandaged. Let me help. Please."

"The supplies are in the front room on the bottom shelf," Rosalee informed them helpfully, moving away from Hank to go get them. "I'll get them out for you."

"No," Nick told them both firmly, his face now stony and unreadable, "no, I can do it myself." With that, he stormed away towards the front of the shop, shoulders hunched with the weight of the world that he was carrying.

"Nick," Juliette called after him, but decided he needed a moment alone to process everything. She turned back to the group with a sigh. "Let's give him a minute to calm down. I don't want to push him too hard."

"Agreed," Monroe nodded simply. "Let's try not to push him back into another episode."

"Are you sure you're ok Monroe?" she raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing the marks on his neck from Nick's attempted strangulation.

Monroe nodded, giving her a grim smile. "Yea, I'm fine now. Promise." She didn't miss how Rosalee squeezed his arm firmly at his words, in evident relief that he was ok.

Juliette just sighed deeply as she turned back to Hank. "How about you?"

Hank nodded, rubbing the rapidly growing bruise along the side of his face and wincing slightly. "Yea, this is nothing. I'll be alright."

"At least let me get you some ice," Rosalee smiled at him sympathetically as she stepped away from Monroe to carefully examine the bruise.

"Yea, that'd be great," Hank smiled gratefully at her. "This is definitely going to leave a mark."

"You might want some too," Rosalee turned back to Monroe, who just shrugged at her words.

"It doesn't hurt now, and I'm breathing fine. Just get some for Hank."

"Ok, well the ice is in the mini freezer up front," Rosalee replied, moving towards the front of the shop. "I'll be right back."

"Thanks Rosalee," Hank smiled gratefully at her.

"Of course," she nodded as she began to move away from the group.

"And maybe you can check on Nick real quick and see how he's doing," Monroe added quickly as she walked away. She nodded at him in agreement over her shoulder and then left the room.

Monroe sighed as he looked back at Juliette and Hank, the unspoken heaviness in the air growing around them. "This is getting worse."

"There has to be a way to help him," Juliette looked at them both worriedly, running her hands haphazardly through her hair. "He can't just be stuck like this permanently."

"I know Nick won't like it," Hank frowned at them, "but I think I should tell the Captain. I don't know what else to do."

"Yea man," Monroe nodded slowly at him in agreement. "It might not be the best solution, but we're running out of options here."

"Well, if he goes loses control again and we actually get to give him the antidote, that might work," Juliette looked at them both hopefully. "Right?"

Monroe shrugged helplessly, looking somewhat defeated. "I hope so. Rosalee thinks it might, but we don't know for sure. But we have to somehow get close enough without him knocking our block off to actually give it to him."

Juliette bit her bottom lip anxiously, shaking her head. "I know. But if that's what we have to do..."

"Then we'll do it," Monroe finished in agreement. "If that's the only way to help Nick, then that's the only option for us."

"Guys," Rosalee came striding back into the room then, absently handing Hank an ice pack and glancing nervously around the room. "Nick's gone."

"What do you mean, he's gone?" Juliette questioned worriedly, stepping closer to her friend.

"I mean, he's not here," Rosalee replied quickly. "He was out in the front room when I came through to get the ice pack, but when I came back out of the storage room, he was gone."

"Gone? Where could he have gone?" Monroe asked incredulously. "Where would he go?"

"Then we have to go find him!" Juliette added urgently, her heart skipping a beat. "He could just hurt himself or somebody else in this state."

"Damn it Nick," Hank sighed for the third time that night. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"I'm afraid I know the answer," Rosalee replied suddenly as she quickly checked all around the floor near the table. "Have you guys seen the Piqure-Gigantesque?"

"No, didn't it roll under that table when you fell?" Monroe replied in confusion. "Why?"

Rosalee straightened back up, turning to look back at them in concern. "Because it's gone too."

"What?" Hank asked, as they all looked at each other fearfully. "It's gone?"

Rosalee frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "Nick's gone, and he took it with him."

"What? Why would he take it?" Monroe asked, stepping closer to her and searching her face desperately for answers.

Rosalee shook her head, biting her lower lip. "I think he's going to try to use it on himself."

"Wait, won't it kill him if he doesn't use it when he's in the aggressive stage?" Juliette asked, gripping Rosalee's arm in rising panic.

Rosalee sighed, regarding them all seriously before she spoke. "That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

"So where could he have gone?" Rosalee asked as the four of them ran hastily out the front door of the shop.

"Well, the car's still here," Juliette pointed out quickly to Nick's vehicle parked in the front of the shop.

"So he couldn't have gotten far," Monroe replied, pausing to sniff the air deeply. He closed his eyes, inhaling with another deep breath. "He's still around here, and he's close. And with the way he was bleeding, I should be able to track him pretty easily."

Just then, Hank's phone broke the still night air, startling them all in the deep quiet of the night.

"It's the Captain," Hank told them hurriedly, hope evident in his tone. "He must be back. I don't care what Nick said, I'm letting him know what's going on."

"Yea, you do that, while we try to find Nick," Monroe replied quickly, taking another step out on the sidewalk in front of the shop and taking inhaling deeply once again. He paused, frowning as he looked back at Juliette and Rosalee. "It's weird. It's like he's still in the shop, even though he isn't."

"Yea," Rosalee nodded, sniffing the air hesitantly as well as Juliette waited apprehensively for them to head in one direction. "It almost seems like it's coming from above…"

Monroe froze at that thought, turning to look hesitantly up at the top of the spice shop building, and suddenly realizing where Nick had gone.

"The roof!"

* * *

"Nick!" Hank banged solidly on the exit door to the roof, finding that it was blocked from the outside. "Nick, open up!"

"He's out there," Monroe confirmed, sniffing the air again and looking at the rest of the group. He took a deep breath and shouted at the door. "Come on man, it's us! Open the door!"

"Please, Nick, let us out there," Juliette pleaded through the door. They had to stop him before he did something drastic that there would be no coming back from. "Please!"

"Let us help you," Rosalee added, stepping closer to the door. "We can find another way, don't give up yet."

There was still no answer. Hank sighed in exasperation, turning to Monroe. "How about…?" he questioned, motioning at the door.

Monroe nodded, clenching his jaw in determination. "Yea. On three." He turned to Juliette and Rosalee. "Just stand back."

They all took a few steps out of the way as Monroe woged into full Blutbad form, and he and Hank ran towards it, hitting it with their full weight. For a few moments, it refused to budge an inch. Monroe growled furiously, putting every ounce of his strength into the door, Hank kicking furiously next to him, when the door finally gave, swinging open with a resounding crash. Panting heavily, Monroe pushed the mangled door aside hurriedly.

"Nick!"

All four of them ran out on to the roof, peering into the darkness to find him.

"Over there," Rosalee said suddenly, pointing to the far corner of the open space.

Nick was standing with his back to them, knowing they were there but not bothering to turn around and look at them. He stood at the edge of the roof, looking absently out at the twinkling lights of Portland at night.

Monroe's heart stuck in his throat as he thought for a minute that maybe, just maybe, Nick was so desperate to stop this, to protect them from this monster inside, that he would be willing to jump.

"Nick, don't do it!" he cried out, rushing towards his friend, but Rosalee grabbed his arm and stopped him from getting any closer.

"Monroe, you have to calm down," she whispered fiercely in his ear, and he nodded reluctantly, realizing that she was right. He didn't want to startle Nick into inadvertently doing something permanent and irreversible.

Nick sighed heavily then, slowly turning around to face them. He wasn't looking directly at them, but staring straight ahead and purposefully avoiding eye contact. In his hands, the fully loaded injection tool was gripped so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. He barely seemed aware of the blood still steadily dripping from his wrists from his untreated wounds.

Monroe sucked in a deep breath at the sight of the Piqure-Gigantesque clutched in his hands. It was almost worse than jumping off the roof. He was going to give himself the antidote, even though he wasn't in the aggressive stage, regardless of the repercussions.

Nick's voice was hollow and broken when he finally spoke. "You guys shouldn't be here."

Juliette swallowed thickly, looking at the others for reassurance before slowly taking a step towards him. "Nick," she began soothingly, trying to get him to look at her. "It's ok now. We're here to help."

Nick still didn't look up at her, but kept the tool clutched tightly in his hands, shaking his head in defeat. "You can't. There's no way to fix this. There's no hope."

"Don't say that man," Monroe added gently, swallowing thickly and fighting against every instinct to rush to Nick's side and knock the tool out of his hands before he could use it. "There's always a way."

"Yea," Nick finally looked up at them, with Juliette hovering a few feet away from him, and the pained and hopeless expression in his eyes was clear. "This is it," he motioned stiffly at the Piqure-Gigantesque in his hands. "This is the only way."

"No it isn't," Rosalee tried to convince him then, her voice calm and reassuring. "There is a better way. We just need a little more time to find it."

"No," Nick shook his head firmly, gritting his teeth, "we can't take that chance. I can't let someone else get hurt because of me. I _won't_ kill anyone else…" he trailed off, turning away from them again and looking directly at the tool in his hands. "We're out of time."

"Nick, man, listen to me," Hank was unable to hide the desperation in his tone, "you don't want to do this. You heard Rosalee, if you do this now, it will kill you."

Nick turned back to them with a raw and open expression on his face. "Maybe that's for the best."

"Nick," Juliette sucked in a deep breath at his words, shaking her head, "no, you don't mean that."

"Yes," he clenched his jaw, his eyes wet and unblinking with barely suppressed tears as he looked despondently at all of them. "Yes I do. Even if this kills me, you'll all be better off."

"Dude, no way," Monroe replied incredulously, completely shocked to hear Nick talking like this. "We would definitely not be better off without you, man. How could you even think like that?"

"At least no one else would get hurt," Nick replied sadly, sounding completely defeated. "I tried to kill you guys, more than once. Next time, I might actually succeed, and I can't live with that."

He stopped to let out a shaky breath before continuing. "And let's face it, you'd all be safer without me in your lives anyway. You've all already been hurt too much because of others trying to get to me. Just being around me puts all of you in danger, because of who I am." He paused as a single tear escaped and rolled slowly down his cheek.

"You'd all be better off if I was dead."

"No, Nick," Juliette pleaded firmly with him, fighting back her own tears now. "This isn't you. You don't give up like this."

"Yea man, we know you're in a really dark place right now," Monroe added with a tone of desperation, as Rosalee clutched his hand in another vain attempt to calm him, "but this doesn't sound like you. This is the poison talking, the Baron still in your head. Don't listen to it. You're stronger than this. You're _better_ than this."

Nick scoffed half-heartedly at that as he glanced over at him with watery and bloodshot eyes. "And what if I'm not?"

"You are," Hank added sadly, body tense as though it was taking every ounce of his self-control to keep from tackling Nick to the ground. "If you do this, then the Captain's brother will have won after all, even from beyond the grave. Do you really want that?"

"I just want this to be over," Nick replied in utter exhaustion, his shoulders hunching forwards as he studied the tool in his hands, turning it over absently. "If there's no cure for this anyways, if there's no way to stop this…then this would be the best thing for everyone."

"No it wouldn't," Juliette replied, her voice breaking as she took another careful step closer to him. "We all love you, Nick. Don't you realize that? Don't you know what it would do to us…if we lost you?"

"I'm sorry," Nick closed his eyes painfully at her words, two more tears escaping and falling down his cheeks. Juliette took another cautious step, and he looked back at her, raising a shaking hand. "Don't. D-don't come any closer. Please."

"Then please, don't do this," Juliette froze in her tracks, trying everything to get him to listen. "Please, Nick."

"Nick, man, this isn't the answer," Monroe added desperately, forcing himself to stay in place by gripping Rosalee's hand tightly, "you have to know that."

"Think about what you're doing," Hank added, struggling to keep his voice calm. "This isn't what you want to do."

"Nick, we can help you," Rosalee added firmly, her warm brown eyes looking at him worriedly. "This isn't the only way out."

"It's the only way that protects the ones I love," he looked meaningfully at all of them, shaking his head despite their desperate pleas to stop him. "I'm so sorry. I really am." He took a shaky breath as he looked back at them. "But I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe…even from me."

In one swift movement, he flipped around the injection tool in his hands, the prongs aimed at his abdomen.

It was as if time stood still.

"Wait!" Juliette was screaming now as she moved forward, being the closest one to Nick and trying to reach him in time.

"Stop!" Hank cried out, as he and Monroe lunged forwards simultaneously.

"Nick don't!" Monroe yelled as they both rushed at Nick in what felt like slow motion.

But they were too late. Nick plunged the prongs of the Piqure-Gigantesque into his stomach, letting out a pained grunt as the deep needles penetrated his skin. With a shaking hand, he slammed in the plunger, effectively releasing the antidote into his body.

Juliette reached him before the others, meeting Nick's pained and apologetic expression as the tool slipped from his hands and fell to the ground. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slumped forwards. Juliette tried to catch him, but sudden fall of his full weight dragged them both down to the cement of the roof, causing her to land with a painful thud on her knees as she tried to break his fall.

But then Hank and Monroe were there, picking Nick up and swiftly moving him towards the stairwell as Rosalee barked orders to get him back downstairs. As soon as they reentered the main level of the shop, they placed Nick on the bed in an eerily familiar fashion to his first romp as a zombie. Rosalee hurriedly knelt by Nick's head, feeling his clammy skin and checking him over before wheeling to look back at the rest of them in alarm. "He doesn't have a pulse!"

"We have to do something!" Juliette's eyes went wide in panic.

"Oh my God," Monroe breathed, looking back at her in disbelief. "What do we do?"

"I need something to restart his heart!" Rosalee called out, rushing over to the destroyed shelf from earlier and digging among the broken bottles, unmindful of the shards of glass. "Find me a stimulant, adrenaline, anything! We have to find something we can use, but they were all on this shelf…"

"Of course they were," Monroe muttered under his breath as they all began frantically digging through the various broken bottles and spices littering the floor of the shop from Nick's earlier outburst. "Come on, start looking!"

"Restart his heart?" Hank asked anxiously as he dug through a pile of broken glass and herbs.

"The antidote is supposed to stimulate the nervous system when someone is affected by the Cracher-Mortel's posion," Rosalee explained quickly, rummaging underneath the broken remains of the bottom part of the shelf. "Since he wasn't in the violent state where his system is on overdrive, the antidote effectively overwhelmed his system and stopped his heart. We need something to counter-act it."

"How are you going to give it to him?" Hank questioned urgently as he dug through another pile, scattering the contents everywhere in his haste.

"In order to administer the fastest and most effective dose, we'll have to use that," she motioned at the now discarded Piqure-Gigantesque on the floor. "But we need to find something we can use first. And hurry!"

"What about this?" Juliette pulled out a small half-broken vial of amber liquid from the mess and quickly showed it to Monroe, shaking her head in frustration and worry. "I don't know what this is! There's only half a label and I can't read German."

"Actually, you're close," Monroe grabbed the broken vial and examined the torn label, "but we need to find the other half just to make sure. Let's look in this pile." He moved next to Juliette and began hastily digging through the broken glass and scattered spices and liquids, unmindful of the small cuts on his hands from the broken glass in his desperation to find something they could use.

"Ah ha!" he exclaimed a moment later in victory, pulling out another half-broken vial, and he could now read the label with both parts of the bottle held up together. _Adrenalin des Herzens. _"I think this is it!"

"Bring it here," Rosalee said urgently, leaving the pile she was frantically digging through and grabbing the broken vial from Monroe's outstretched hands. She grabbed the three-pronged injection tool, quickly pouring the remaining contents of the bottle into the open cartridges. She ran over to the bed raised it up, placing it hesitantly over Nick's heart.

"I don't know if this will work," she glanced nervously at them, before looking back down at Nick.

"Just do it," Juliette told her urgently. "We're running out of time!"

"Yea, it's our only shot," Monroe looked at her grimly, Hank nodding quickly in agreement from his place next to him.

"Ok," Rosalee took a deep breath, before plunging the needles deep into Nick's chest and directly into his heart.

After the contents had completely dispersed, she carefully removed the tool, taking a careful step back and letting out a long sigh. "I hope this works."

"It has to," Juliette knelt worriedly next to Nick's head, brushing back the dark hair from his forehead. "Come on, Nick. Come back to us," she whispered, squeezing his clammy hand. "Please…"

"Dude, c'mon," Monroe muttered urgently under his breath, as they all waited for Nick to come back around. It was taking way too long, and they all knew that if he didn't wake up soon, then he wouldn't wake up at all.

This had to work. They couldn't lose him, not like this…

A long painful minute ticked by, and Monroe started to feel the sensation of being sucked down into a dark void. They hadn't been fast enough, they were too late, they couldn't save him…

Suddenly, Nick's eyes flew open, and he sucked in a shuddering breath, effectively bursting into a fit of violent coughing as if he had been holding his breath underwater for far too long. Juliette and Rosalee slowly helped him sit up, tears of joy in both their eyes, as he continued to suck in deep dregs of air between each cough.

It had worked.

* * *

When Nick finally caught his breath, he looked fuzzily back at them, wondering why they were all looking at him in a mixture of shock and relief. "Why are you guys…" He frowned, suddenly recalling what had happened, what he had done in desperation, as a last resort. His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between them. "Wait, did it work?"

Rosalee shrugged, patting his knee fondly with one hand and brushing away an unshed tear with the other. "We don't know yet. We'll have to wait and see."

Juliette leaned in and gave him a long kiss through her tears. "Nick, how could you think…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "I'm just glad you're ok."

"You're an idiot," Monroe added then, but Nick didn't miss the concern in his voice from where he stood at the edge of the bed with Hank. Then Monroe leaned down, shaking his head as he clasped the back of Nick's neck firmly. "Do you have any idea what you almost did to yourself?"

Nick nodded slowly, looking slightly chagrined as he looked around at his friends, their love and concern for him evident on their faces. He had known the risks, but he had hit a breaking point. He was so desperate to protect them from the monster inside that he couldn't control, that he had been truly prepared to sacrifice himself to keep them, and other innocent people, safe. He let out a deep sigh, looking at them sadly. "Look, I'm sorry. But if this is the only way to stop this, to keep you guys out of danger, then I had to try."

Juliette reached over and clasped his hand firmly in hers as she sat next to him on the bed, reaching up her other hand to shakily dry her tears. "Nick…we love you. How could you think that this was the only solution?"

He reached over and cupped her face gently, wiping away her remaining tears and feeling a sharp pang of guilt for what he had put them all through. "I'm sorry, Juliette, I just…I just didn't know what else to do."

"Well, this was never a part of the solution," Hank shook his head sadly as he regarded his partner. "I know you think you were doing the right thing here, but this definitely wasn't the answer."

"Yea man," Monroe added with a quiet sadness to his voice, "I know you think you were protecting us from well, _you_, but if you hadn't survived this…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "That would have been so much worse."

Rosalee gently squeezed his knee again from where she sat on his other side. "Don't you know what you mean to us?"

Nick swallowed quickly, blinking back the unwanted new wetness forming behind his eyes, as he realized that this little makeshift family of his loved him just as much as he loved them, and that they were willing to go to hell and back at his side. He smiled at them all gratefully through his tears.

"I do now."

* * *

"Why don't you guys all relax?" Rosalee headed towards the far side of the spice shop. "I'll make us all some tea."

"That sound great," Monroe sighed, as Hank grunted in agreement. He and Hank moved over to the counter and tiredly pulled up some stools.

"Thanks Rosalee," Juliette replied hoarsely, grabbing Nick's hand firmly in hers as she turned to look back at him.

"Why don't you lie down?" she told him gently, adjusting some pillows behind him. He nodded, laying back without argument at the look she gave him. Juliette sat down gingerly next to him, taking his hands and turning them over gently. Nick winced as he realized that he still had bleeding cuts from the handcuffs. He had forgotten completely about them.

"Let's get these taken care of," she told him quietly, moving to the counter of the shop to grab the supplies that Rosalee had mentioned earlier. She sat lightly back down on the bed, getting out the antiseptic and gauze as she slowly began cleaning his cuts.

Nick winced again slightly as the antiseptic stung, realizing the cuts were deeper than he had initially realized. He had been so determined to find a way to end his violent rages that he hadn't even paid attention to his injuries from before. They seemed minor in the scheme of things.

He sat quietly as Juliette worked, watching her as she intently cleaned the cuts and carefully bandaged them, her movements controlled and gentle and much how Nick imagined she was with her animal patients at the veterinary clinic.

"There, all done," she finally said, putting the supplies back into the plastic container. "I don't think you'll need stitches, but we'll have to keep an eye on them."

"Thanks," Nick smiled at her, and she gave him a faint smile back, reaching over to squeeze his hand gently, mindful of his newly bandaged wounds. She fell silent then, running her thumb gently over the back of his hand.

Nick squeezed back, giving her a faint smile as she reached over and tucked the top blanket of the bed over him like a worried mother would. "I'm ok, Juliette."

She nodded absently, biting her lower lip as she obsessively smoothed out the blanket over him. She finally let out a deep breath before meeting his gaze. "But you almost weren't."

His smile faded, and he reached out to stop her restless movements, grabbing her hand in his and forcing her to look at him. "It may not make any sense, but I would do anything to make this stop, and I couldn't keep putting you all in danger. I couldn't live like this, Juliette."

She squeezed his hand firmly in response. "Well, living without you isn't an option. _Don't_ you ever think that that would be better, for any of us."

Nick shook his head slowly at that, before falling back against the pillows with a deep sigh. "I promise, I won't ever try anything like that again."

"Good," Juliette quirked a small smile at him then, reaching her other hand up and smoothing back his hair. "Now, I think you need to rest for a while, after what you've gone through. We'll just monitor you tonight and make sure that everything's ok."

He smiled gratefully at her, before pulling her down for a kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too," she pulled back from the kiss, cupping his cheek fondly. "Now sleep. We'll be here when you wake up."

"You know, I _am_ really tired," he nodded, slowly closing his eyes. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

* * *

A short while later, Rosalee came back into the room and handed them all a steaming hot mug of tea. Juliette sighed as she took a long sip of the steaming liquid, feeling the tension slowly leaving her shoulders.

Maybe everything was going to be ok after all.

"Wait, look," Hank suddenly interrupted the comfortable silence that had fallen over all of them in their vigil over Nick, "is it happening again?"

Juliette's heart sunk with dread as she turned to look behind her on the bed at Nick's sleeping form, and saw his skin was pale and cold once again. With a shaking hand, she reached up to check his pulse, realizing she could barely feel it fluttering under her fingertips.

"Oh no," she breathed in dismay, as she turned to look back at her friends. "This is exactly what he was like the night I called 911."

"So, it didn't work," Monroe clamped his eyes shut miserably, shaking his head. "All of this, what Nick put himself through, was all for nothing."

"Damn it," Rosalee muttered, moving quickly to the other side of the bed to take in Nick's eerily pale and unmoving form. "I really thought, since he survived it, that maybe this was the solution."

"Nick," Juliette shook him gently at first, and then more roughly when she didn't get a response, trying to push down the fear at how cold and still and _dead_ he looked in this state, desperately hoping that it wasn't the case. "Nick!"

After a moment, his skin slowly returned to normal and his eyes fluttered open. He squinted up at all of them staring down at him once again. "Uh, hi guys. What's going on?"

He slowly sat up in bed, and he didn't miss the way they were all looking at each other and avoiding his question. Nick grabbed Juliette's arm, looking at them all more and more desperately. "Don't tell me…"

"It didn't work," Rosalee told him sadly, sitting down on the other side of the bed across from Juliette. "Just now, in your sleep, it happened again."

"Are you serious?" he looked at her in disbelief, looking completely defeated at this news. "It really didn't work?"

"I'm afraid not," Rosalee told him apologetically. "But we'll find a way, Nick. Don't give up yet."

"No," he breathed placing his head in his hands, taking a deep breath to regain his composure before looking back up at them in pain and regret. "Now what? Now what are we going to do?"

"We'll figure this out, man, I promise," Monroe tried to reassure him, coming over to squeeze his shoulder firmly. "Just don't go off and try to figure this out alone again, ok?"

"Yea, no more pulling that crap," Hank added at that, stepping closer to the bed as well. "There has to be a way to fix this, Nick, without hurting you in the process."

"Looks like I got back just in time," an imposing voice suddenly boomed from the doorway, and they all wheeled around in surprise as Renard entered the room, studying them all carefully as he approached.

"Captain," Nick's eyes widened in surprise. "You're back? What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, told him what was going on, once I found out he was back," Hank answered quickly with a shrug. "I know what you said before, Nick, but I'm sorry, we were desperate to help you."

"And it's a good thing he did," Renard said as he strode slowly into the room, hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat. He stopped next to the bed, looking down his imposing height at Nick. "Heard you tried to do what you thought was the right thing."

Nick sighed deeply, looking up at Renard. "If it means keeping them," he gestured at his friends, "and anyone else safe from me, then I'll do whatever it takes."

"Even if it means you die in the process?" Renard raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. "Tell me, Nick, how would that be beneficial for anyone? Especially them?"

Nick frowned, giving Renard a unyielding look. "Look, it wasn't the best solution, I know that. But we're running out of options, and time."

"That's just it, Nick," Renard shook his head, placing one hand to his chin as he regarded the Grimm. "There is one avenue that you haven't tried yet."

They all looked at each other in confusion, wondering what Renard could possibly know about Cracher-Mortel poison and Grimms and side effects that they didn't.

"And what's that exactly?" Monroe cut in, stepping closer to Renard with a puzzled look. "Because believe me when I say we've exhausted just about every idea we've had to find a way to cure him."

"There is no cure," Renard replied simply, causing them to all pause once again at his words.

"What?" Nick asked in disbelief, shaking his head. "There has to be."

"What do you mean, there's no cure?" Juliette asked, looking at Renard for an explanation and squeezing Nick's hand tightly for reassurance. "You just said that we haven't tried every avenue yet."

"Sir, are you saying that Nick is stuck like this?" Hank asked with a tone of dread.

"Not exactly," Renard shook his head at them, "but he has to learn how to control it."

"Control it?" Rosalee questioned in disbelief as the others looked at Renard in bewilderment. "That's the whole point of the Cracher-Mortel's poison…there is _no_ control."

"For a regular human, yes," Renard nodded in confirmation, "but Nick is no regular human."

Monroe snorted at that. "Yea, we know that. But how is he supposed to control it when he doesn't even know when it's happening?"

"Wait," Nick interrupted, slowly pulling up the covers and rising to his feet, coming to stand in front of Renard. "So you're saying that because I'm a Grimm, I'm reacting differently to the poison than anyone else, right?"

"Which we already knew," Monroe pointed out with a tone of exasperation.

"But," Nick shot him a look before continuing, "that means the antidote doesn't work on me the same, either. It's not enough."

"You being a Grimm changes everything about this," Renard replied. "Your genetic makeup is such that the poison made you stronger, faster, more ruthless and violent than any of the other victims."

Nick flinched at his words, remembering all the pain and suffering he had caused during his initial run as a zombie minion and what had happened since then. "Yea. But you're saying that I can control it somehow?"

"Exactly," Renard confirmed, looking at them all seriously. "Being a Grimm means that your body adapts to any and all attacks from Wesen. That's part of your history and part of who and what you are. So even though the poison made you something you aren't, it also gave you a gift."

"That's a hell of a gift," Monroe scoffed at that. "Trying to kill everyone he knows?"

"Wait, I get what you're saying," Rosalee added, coming around the side of the bed to look at Renard. "You're saying that even though right now he is reacting badly to the poison and has no control, he has the innate ability to turn it into a defense mechanism?"

"Sort of like an organism adapting to changes in its ecosystem?" Juliette asked, trying to wrap her mind around this impossible theory.

"Yes," Renard replied, raising an eyebrow at her before he turned back to Nick. "If you can learn how to control this, Nick, you can use it to your advantage. It's an evolution, of sorts, of your body trying to turn this latest Wesen attack into a strength, not a weakness. That's just another reason why Grimms are considered so dangerous."

"Ok. Ok, yea, just like what happened with the fly guy, remember?" Monroe mused as it all suddenly made sense. "Losing your sight should have been a weakness, but all of a sudden, your hearing was better than, well _mine_, for example. You could hear things that no one should be able to. You still can sometimes."

"Yea," Nick nodded, putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully for a moment before looking back at Renard. "Well, if that's true, then how do I learn how to control this? Because I've had absolutely no control over it so far."

"That," Renard replied with a shrug, "is what I don't know. And that's something only you can figure out, since none of us are Grimms. We can't relate to what you're going through."

Nick sighed deeply at that, looking around the room at all of them. Gone was the defeated look he had been wearing for the past few days, now replaced with a new determination, the familiar fight and fire returning to his eyes.

"Well, I'm going to figure out how. I can promise all of you that."

* * *

It wasn't until their run-in with Krampus a few weeks later that Nick was able to fully realize control of his new abilities.

He reached the vicious beast first, before Monroe and Hank and Bud, as they freed the children that were hung from the tree as they awaited their fate as a midnight snack.

Not really knowing what he was up against, Nick had taken on the demonic creature on his own, but he was surprised at how strong and fast and _agile_ this Santa from hell actually was. It was nothing like he had expected.

They were going blow for blow in rapid succession, as Nick ducked under the clawed fist and tried to strike Krampus again, which seemed to be useless under the layers of his thick red coat. Nick came up too quickly, and suddenly those long clawed-fingers were wrapping around his neck with incredible strength, and he couldn't break free.

Krampus's fingers tightened impossibly around his airway, cutting off his oxygen supply as the world became grey and fuzzy at the edges, spinning dizzily around him. There was no escaping Krampus's iron-clad grip, as he desperately tried to suck in another breath of air. It was useless, and he was quickly losing consciousness.

It was then that Nick felt what he could only describe as an unbridled strength rising up from inside him, something clawing furiously at the edges of his consciousness and begging to be let out, and suddenly, in that moment, he knew _exactly_ what it was. He relented, letting the power surge forth as a way of survival.

He could feel it this time, though, could tell what was happening to him. It was different from all of the other times it had happened before. This time he was aware and in control, where all of the other times it had been in control of him. He let himself go still and pale, the need for oxygen rapidly diminishing, and he felt the renewed strength course over him as he raised up a pale fist and struck Krampus with an incredible strength that he hadn't even known he was capable of.

Krampus immediately dropped his unrelenting grip on his neck, stumbling backwards and falling unconscious to the forest floor from the force of Nick's single blow.

Nick stood shaking slightly over the form of Krampus, looking carefully at his fist in wonderment as his skin slowly returned to normal.

He had done it. He had finally gained control over what was happening to him, over the rage within, and had used it to his advantage to win the fight with an incredibly powerful Wesen. Renard had been right, his body was turning it into a strength, a new type of defense mechanism to keep him alive when he went up against some impossible foe.

Just then, Monroe and Hank came bursting through the woods, to see Nick standing over the unmoving Krampus, and wondering how exactly he had managed to take him down on his own looking none the worse for wear.

* * *

Later the next day as they left the trailer, realizing they had no other choice but to inform the Wesen Council that Krampus didn't even _know_ he was Krampus, Hank and Monroe followed Nick out to Hank's police cruiser.

"Well, glad to know that guy is actually real," Monroe snorted in disbelief. "Can't wait for the nightmares from this one."

"Me either," Hank grunted in agreement. "Sometimes, I still can't believe that all this stuff is real," he gestured between Monroe and Nick. "Unbelievable."

Nick remained uncharacteristically quiet as they approached the car, and the two friends looked at each other quizzically.

"Everything ok man?" Hank asked, as they came to a stop next to his car. "You haven't said much since you finished up that entry in the book."

"Yea, yea, everything's fine," Nick gave them both a reassuring smile, but they saw right through it.

"Ok, what?" Monroe narrowed his eyes at him, clearly knowing there was more to the story. "What's going on?"

"Well," Nick looked at them, relief evident in his tone, "when I was fighting Krampus, he almost won."

"Really?" Monroe asked in surprise. "I mean, he's a hell of a Wesen, or _whatever_ he is, to take on by yourself, but it didn't seem like you had any trouble on your own."

"Yea man, by the time we got to you, you seemed to have it all handled," Hank added in puzzlement.

"That's just it," Nick told them seriously, "Krampus almost won…but then _it_ happened again."

"You mean you had another spell?" Hank asked in surprise, as he and Monroe paused to exchange a worried look.

"Seriously?" Monroe asked in concern, "But you haven't had a bad episode in a while, right? Like maybe it was leaving your system or something?"

"Right," Nick nodded in response, "but when it happened tonight, it was different. I was in control. And that's what saved my life, and let me defeat Krampus. Otherwise, he would have won."

"What?" Hank blinked in confusion at this. "You controlled it? On purpose?"

Nick smiled at that. "Yea. Renard was right, it's like my body is turning it into a defense mechanism. And now that I know what it feels like when it's happening, and how to use it to my advantage, I think I'll be in full control of it from now on. I'll only use it if I _have_ to use it."

"No way, dude," Monroe clapped him on the shoulder in obvious relief. "So this whole mess, with the zombie-Grimm thing…it's finally over?"

"Yea," Nick smiled at them, his shoulders relaxing for what felt like the first time since his run-in with the Baron in the shipping yard.

"It's finally over."

END PART 2

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought about the conclusion, I love hearing from you.**

**Up next: Anonymous (per reader request) wanted to see something with Trubel, which is perfect because I've been wanting to tackle her character for a while, and I love the brother/sister or mentor/mentee relationship her and Nick have, so look for that one coming your way soon (hopefully).**

**Also, I have a another multi-chapter story that I've been working on since Season 2, but it's had my muse lately, so I may or may not start posting that as well….we'll see! **

**Thanks loves! **


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